Up until now
by JosieRevisited
Summary: Just a small story that will follow Josephine and Adaar(f) as they stumble through romance and on to some new adventures. 2/9/15 - response re: Cassandra\Leliana mostly positive. Officially adding as a ship in this work.
1. Chapter 1

A/N – Just a little mess that picks up after Haven is buried. Truth be told, I didn't really *notice* Josephine until everyone moved to Skyhold. In my headcanon, she didn't really notice my Inquisitor until this point, either, though clearly she's the easiest to romance.

This work will pick up as Josephine's family honor is restored and focus on what I imagine happened behind the scenes as this romance unfolded. From there I'll likely deviate entirely from the story so I can have a little fun with these characters. This won't be an in-depth work; just a distraction. I really was more interested in Sera, but I didn't get her as a companion early enough to rack up the approval despite being her favorite race and gender. Next time. For now, I'm all in with Josie.

Plus her name is my name too. How cool is that?

* * *

**_Early morning, Josephine's office_**

_She's sitting there again…_

Malora Adaar was folded quietly in a corner reading a book. It was a strange sight, such a tall and powerful warrior smiling into the pages of a work of literature far too small in her massive hands, but it was one that Josephine Montilyet had grown accustomed to. The brute often made her way to that corner on her down time, bringing with her books on magic, history, art, anything she could get her hands on. Well, anything except for Varric's trash, that is. The Inquisitor did have _some_ taste, after all.

When Malora entered her office Josephine always made a big show of pouring over her notes, pretending to refresh her memory from her latest assignment, but secretly she just watched the gentle giant make her way over to the far corner. Inquisitor Malora Adaar was an enigma, at once unnerving and durable. The entire weight of the Inquisition was on her shoulders, yet they never slumped, she never once faltered. The ambassador let her gaze wander over those muscular shoulders, thinking about the tension they must hold. How much pressure was the strange creature under? Far too much, and she seemed utterly alone. She was a stranger here, her race marking her as an outsider, yet all of them depended on her for their safety and for direction. Josephine drew her eyes up to those stony features, that almost imperceptible smile that sometimes graced them when she read something particularly interesting. Sometimes she thought about asking what it was that delighted the qunari so, but she never quite worked up the nerve.

As it was, the companionable silence reassured her that she was in the right place. The Inquisition was the world's only hope, and the Inquisition's only hope was the demon quietly existing in that corner, the unknown quantity that may have been touched by Andraste herself. If being in this room afforded the tall and intimidating woman some small comfort, then Josephine was more than happy to be accommodating.

"Josie. Josie? Josie!" Leliana ruffled some papers on the diplomat's desk to get her attention, her eyes following her friend's gaze to the far end of the room. "You and I ought to have a chat."

"What is it, Leliana? I'm rather busy…" Josephine readjusted her paperwork and hunched back over it, oblivious to the fact most of the pages were upside down.

"Right. You're not reading that. Come with me."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Josephine muttered as the former bard pulled her out of the office. She turned her head slightly toward the qunari warrior, who merely raised an eyebrow for a moment and went back to reading her book, used to such disturbances. Josephine was often pulled away by one of the other advisors to deal with some visiting dignitary or another, and she would return after the appropriate niceties had been exchanged.

The diplomat resisted being pulled up the stairs, but her friend was in much better physical condition and she was no match for the assassin. In a few moments she was at the top of the keep in Leliana's chosen room, the lofty rookery. "Ok, what is it?" Josephine dusted herself off and crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at the older woman.

Leliana just took a seat behind a table and produced a knife, casually cleaning her fingernails with it. "Do you realize she is interested in you?"

Josephine's mouth opened a closed a few times, but no words came out. Who was interested in her? Adaar? The idea was outrageous. They barely spoke. The few times they did speak, the qunari was friendly, but aloof. There was nothing that could have been interpreted as _specifically_ romantic. Besides, the rumors were that she was already involved with a member of the troupe. Rumors often had a grain of truth to them, after all.

After a few moments she finally found her tongue. "Don't be silly. She's sleeping with that elf girl." The diplomat nodded to herself in satisfaction. She could deflect this whole matter with just a few choice phrases and not have to address it at all. Sera was exceedingly convenient. The girl made no secret of her attraction to the qunari, and it was a natural progression for the two of them to find comfort in one another's arms after the trials of the road. When Josephine closed up the office for the night, Malora would head over to the tavern and spend time with Sera. It was likely they bedded down together in the evenings.

"Is that what you think?" Leliana placed the knife back in her boot, leaned forward and folded her hands on the table. "Tell me, my friend, why is it that every time I need to find Adaar, she is in your office?"

"Well," Josephine started, carefully planning her answer, "it is often quiet there. She quite enjoys reading." That explained everything, did it not?

"Her quarters are not quiet? It seems to me that if peace was truly what she sought, that would be the superior choice." Leliana studied her friend's face carefully. In all the years she had known Josephine, she'd never seen the woman this taken before… or this oblivious to it. Clearly, there was something between her and the mysterious giant, even if neither of them could name it.

"Well," Josephine sat down in a chair opposite the assassin. "I suppose she wants to remain available in case anyone needs her. My office is just outside the war room as well as the throne room. It is a small matter for her to get up and attend a meeting or deal with any who require her judgment." She folded her hands as well and blinked innocently, hoping that Leliana wouldn't push the matter. Things were finally settling down again after the tragedy at Haven, and this was not the time to stir the pot. They had rebuilt most of their new fortress and it was very nearly comfortable. She was getting used to her days dealing with the various dignitaries that visited, sending letters and other correspondence, and her nights sharing a quiet companionship with their defacto leader, the tall warrior that stood as a stoic shield in front of them all. It was something that was just _there_ and that's all it ever had to be.

Never mind that she was beginning to worry a little more than was proper about the brute every time she left with those companions of hers. Never mind that every time Malora returned, she secretly examined every inch of the powerful qunari form from a distance to ensure there were no new scars or broken limbs. Never mind that when Malora stayed at the remote camps for days or weeks at a time she would stare at the empty corner of her offices, wondering where the party was and when they… when _she… _would come back again.

Never mind all of that. Things were settling in nicely, she was forging new alliances at breakneck speed, and their ragtag little band of nobodies was quickly rising to be the dominant power in the world. She was at the forefront of it all, and it was nothing short of exhilarating. There was no way she would jeopardize what she had by allowing her imagination to run away with her. Malora Adaar, the strange beast-woman that came from somewhere over the sea, was merely being who she was: formidable, but accessible. There was nothing more to it. It would be ridiculous for her to even entertain the idea that they could… that they could be… she couldn't even think the word in her wildest dreams.

"Fine. What of that other matter?" Leliana had watched Josephine's face run the gamut from scared to pensive to resolved. That meant she had reached some decision, but whether that decision was to take her comments seriously or continue to wear her blinders, Leliana didn't know. In any event, the truth was that this matter was minor in comparison to the rumors she'd heard, and that pressing situation needed to be dealt with.

"I," the dark-haired woman wrung her hands nervously and looked down at them. "I don't know what to do about that. Well that is, I know what to _do_ about it, but there is so much going on, how can I?"

Leliana placed a hand over Josephine's nervous ones. "Just ask Adaar for help. If you won't allow me to handle the matter, at least ask her to assist and see what comes of it. She will go with you. I am certain of it." The corner of Leliana's mouth twitched as a sudden thought occurred to her. "And in doing so I believe we might have a way to determine her intentions toward you."

Josephine rolled her eyes in exasperation. "You are being ridiculous. Lady Adaar has no intentions toward me of any kind. I really wish you would stop meddling."

"I am doing nothing of the sort, but my friend…" Leliana took one of Josie's hands in both of hers and turned it over; smiling sadly at a romance she had lost so long ago. "My friend, we must take our happiness when and if it comes, especially when the days are most dark. Do not make yourself too unavailable. You may find that when you require comfort the most, what you might have had has long since departed."

"You're thinking about her again, aren't you?" Josie gripped Leliana's hand tightly, offering strength.

"No," the rogue replied. "No, I'm not, really. Not anymore. This is not about me, anyway. It is about you, and I believe that the only one who can help you with this little problem is Adaar. If she agrees to help you, I think that the manner in which she does will reveal what her intentions are."

Josephine released Leliana's hand and leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. "This is ridiculous. We are staring down the end of the world and all you can think about is my personal life. Will you just get a life of your own? Cassandra is rather attractive."

"Stop deflecting, Josie. Just explain the situation to Adaar and request her help. If she drops everything to accompany you to Val Royeaux, you'll know. Putting the entire mission on hold just to play petty politics with you will cement what I already believe. You are special to her."

Josephine snorted rather unbecomingly and waved a hand. "You are putting too much thought into this, Leliana."

"You are not putting enough into it, my friend. Just ask her." Leliana stood and motioned toward the door. "One way or another, this matter needs to be resolved. You will not be able to do it on your own. This needs to be taken seriously."

Josephine looked down at the table and absently traced patterns in the wood. "I know."

Leliana squeezed the younger woman's shoulder and left the room, heading toward the tavern. She hoped that Josephine would take her advice, but if she didn't, there were a few assassins in place to handle the inevitable.

* * *

**_Sometime after the meeting in Val Royeaux_**

The assassin crossed her arms and stared straight into the horned giant's eyes. "Let me handle this. It will be quick and clean. There will be no trace left, and no one will ever know of our involvement."

Malora Adaar leaned against the wall, looking from Leliana to Josephine and back again, thinking. Leliana was efficient. Often she'd employed the assassin's tactics, choosing the stealthy approach because it was simple. It was effective and got her the results she… that the Inquisition… needed. But this was different. This was _Josephine. _There was more at stake here than the woman's life, though that was certainly the most precious thing. Malora had the distinct impression that her decision here would determine the course of her friendship with the alluring diplomat.

"I need some time," the massive qunari replied, flexing her powerful leg muscles under her armor in preparation to leave. She rarely took her plate mail off these days, practically sleeping in it in case she had to jump up and defend Skyhold. The losses at Haven had shaken her and she still wasn't quite over it. If only she had been faster. If only she had been stronger. If only she had been anyone but a qunari. If only she had been someone the people could have accepted and rallied behind right away, instead of the stranger from a strange land with a strange mark and a strange story. Unifying the people had been an exercise in frustration, and she shouldered the blame for all of it. So many lives were lost just because she was too tall and had fierce horns. Demon, they called her. Oxman.

Outcast.

As if she hadn't already suffered enough at the hands of her own people just for being born Tal-Vashoth. But none of that mattered. What mattered was that Corypheus was back, he was _really_ pissed off, and somehow she was smack dab in the middle of all of it. And now even the small amount of peace she found when back at the fortress was being threatened. Someone had a contract out on Josephine's life; the one person in all of this she felt accepted her or at least, tolerated her.

Perhaps it was just her breeding; Josephine Montilyet was refined and polite and would never make a disparaging remark publicly. Perhaps she just enjoyed the extra protection afforded her by having the leader of the Inquisition nearby. Perhaps she just didn't even notice that Malora spent all of her free time in that dark corner, sometimes quietly reading, but mostly just existing and thinking.

Even that could be snatched away, and the warrior gritted her teeth in anger. Half of her wanted to just let Leliana bully her way through. It would be faster, for certain. With the contracts destroyed, it would all be over in minutes. It was so simple, right? Sure it was. That was how _she_ handled things, anyway. Draw her hammer, swing it around a few times, and if anyone was left standing, swing it some more. There wasn't much that couldn't be solved by brute force.

But this?

"Ladies, I take my leave of you. I will return tomorrow." Malora nodded gruffly and walked out of the offices, heading for the tavern. A stiff drink was exactly what she needed to sort this out in her mind. Josephine was protected here in the fortress, at any rate, and she caught Cassandra's eye and motioned to the entrance to the keep, silently giving the command for more soldiers. Leliana likely had operatives on Josephine around the clock, but Malora would feel better with a show of cold steel at the doorways. The other warrior inclined her head slightly and jumped to action, signaling three recruits to accompany her and take up flanking positions.

Malora liked Cassandra a lot, despite their initially antagonistic acquaintance. Cass was a brilliant tactician, a marvelous fighter, and an extremely sensitive soul. In another life, she might have been interested in more from the other warrior, but that other life ended the moment she met her political advisor, Josephine Montilyet.

She sat down at the bar and signaled for ale, leaning forward thoughtfully. There was really only one answer, time consuming though it might be. She couldn't let Leliana destroy the papers and then continue on the mission as if it was little more than a hiccup. Josephine wanted to handle the situation the seemly way; the diplomatic way. It would lead to a better reputation for her family in the long run, and Malora thought sometimes that reputation was the only thing that mattered to the human. Still, if that was what the young and beautiful politician desired, that was what she would have.

"Another," Malora said as she drained the rest of the mug. The liquid cooled the fire in her soul and made her drowsy. It chased away rational thoughts, and led her to dreams her sober mind would never allow her to entertain. She thought about the last time she entered the council chambers. Josephine hadn't looked up from her desk, but Malora thought she saw the hint of a smile grace the lovely features for a split second. She did not approach Josephine, instead settling into her normal spot in the darkened corner, but that image stayed with her for the duration of the evening. How she loved to see that smile! She'd give anything, _do_ anything, just to see the human's face light up with joy.

_I wish I wasn't so monstrous. Perhaps if I were a human as well, things would be different. I'd be able to approach her. _

Malora scratched absently behind a horn, pushing her empty mug to the edge of the bar.

"You look like shit, boss." The jovial voice startled her, but the reassuring hand on her shoulder told her that it was the closest thing she had to a friend in the entire company. Iron Bull, the other qunari warrior that had somehow wandered into her life, seated himself beside her and called for a drink. "What's your problem?"

"No problem," she replied, taking her mug in hand and tracing the rim absently.

"Bullshit. That's romantic trouble, for certain." He took his own mug and drained it in one long draught. He wiped his lips with his sleeve and slammed the mug back down on the bar.

"No," she replied quietly, and it was the truth. There was nothing romantic between her and Josephine, and that was likely the way that it would stay. After all, who could possibly fall in love with such a beast? Certainly not a well-to-do and refined aristocrat. Malora stared at the scars that adorned the backs of her hands; deep gashes from years ago that crisscrossed up her arms and had never healed over properly. In those days she had no access to healing magic. She just patched herself up as best she could and moved on. Her body was battered and broken, and she felt old, so very old. She was a stark contrast to the youthful human, whose eyes were bright and full of inspiration and hope. Even facing death, she was scheming and plotting her way out of it. She was magnificent. Malora could deny her nothing.

"Fine, keep your secrets, but if you ask me, you are taking this whole strong, silent, brooding type thing to an extreme. Giving us all a bad rep." Iron Bull pushed himself away from the counter and clapped her on the back.

"Yea." Malora finished her ale and shook her head. He meant well; she just didn't feel like talking. When he left, she stared up at the ceiling and exhaled slowly. "All right, Josephine," she said to no one in particular.

"We'll do it your way."

* * *

**_After the successful restoration of Josie's good name_**

"I told you." Leliana sat with her feet on the table across from Josephine, absently attending to her nails with a knife.

"Told me what?" her companion replied evasively, swirling a spoon around in her soup.

Leliana shook her head, "You know exactly what. She took the long way round, even though at every other turn she has accepted my way of doing things."

"That proves nothing, Leliana." Josephine dropped her spoon in the soup and scrunched up her face at the assassin's boots. "Do you mind? I am trying to enjoy my meal."

Leliana shrugged and took her feet off the table, letting the chair hit the ground with a crack. "Perhaps in and of itself it proves nothing, but she pays you compliments every chance she gets, she spends all her time in your office, she asks your advice before anyone else when we hold council, and you are the first person she comes to see when she returns from the field. Does that not strike you as odd?"

"Again, you are reading too much into it. Of _course_ she comes to see me when she returns from her tasks. She needs to be aware of the changing political climate! Every action she takes has a ripple effect. She understands that, and it is my job to see that she is well-informed." Josephine resumed pecking at her soup, though she had no appetite. Why was Leliana so bent on this? It was over, anyway. Malora Adaar had handled herself admirably, and Josephine's life was no longer in danger. Why could they not just move on?

"Your reports keep her well-informed. She doesn't need to come see you after she returns from every little trip to the Hinterlands."

Josephine inhaled and shook her head. Sometimes her friend was so impossible. "There is no substitute for a quick debriefing on the political climate. Yes, my reports are thorough, but after being in the field I expect she just wants the short version."

Leliana bit her lower lip thoughtfully. Josephine was really trying hard to convince herself that the horned demon was strictly business. Why was that? Was it because Malora was a qunari and she was afraid of what everyone would think if they got involved? No, it likely wasn't that. A romantic alliance with the Herald of Andraste would bolster her reputation, not tarnish it, qunari or no. So then what? It was true that Josephine was inexperienced in matters of the heart, but she was nearly thirty years old and she surely would be experiencing some desires for physical companionship. Malora Adaar was a good enough choice for that, anyway. Leliana silently admitted that even she had glanced at the warrior's strong shoulders and chiseled torso once or twice, wondering what it would feel like to have those muscles pressed against her, that powerful body crushing hers.

_Or perhaps… oh Josie, you are in love with her and you are afraid she doesn't return your feelings. It's entirely possible that I've got this whole thing wrong. Maybe there really _isn't_ anything there on Adaar's side. I'd better find out before I push you any further…_

"Very well. I must take my leave of you. When you see the Herald, and you undoubtedly will when she returns, will you tell her I'd like to see her? It's rather important."

"Of course, Leliana. I will see you later." Josephine was aware of her friend's departing footsteps, though she kept her outward focus on her meal. Once she was certain that Leliana had left, she dropped her spoon and buried her face in her hands. Up until now, she'd had it all under control. Adaar was a concerned comrade; worried about losing her diplomat to an assassination. That was it. Up until that moment overlooking the sea, she could tell herself it was just in her imagination, where it was safe. Up until she saw the brilliant light reflected in those deep steel eyes, shimmering plate mail gleaming in the morning like an angel's breath, she could tell herself it was all completely innocent.

Up until the moment Malora Adaar halted the entire Inquisition just to make sure her family name was restored and her life was spared… she could keep the tall woman at a distance, that formidable figure, unapproachable, unattainable, and perhaps most of all, untouchable.

Up until now, she could tell herself there was simply nothing there.

And perhaps up until now, there wasn't.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N – Thank you for the lovely comments. I agree, there aren't enough fics with this pairing out there. That's one reason I am writing one. Still, the game is relatively new. Many of the femship community writers might just be late to it. I imagine those who picked a qunari are also in the minority among us. Those that preferred Sera, likely the majority of that minority. And I think the new filters suck. It's impossible to find anything anymore. You can put in a search for these two characters and come up with a page full of OC and Cullen. Anyway, I hope that you all enjoy the continuation of this story. I've changed the rating because this chapter is borderline, and well, I'm a romance writer and it's bound to need a change eventually anyway._

* * *

**_Very Early morning, training quarter, sometime after the confrontation with Leliana_**

Cassandra yawned and stretched, her armor rattling a silver song in the silence. No one was up at this hour except the night watch, and she often used this time to walk and clear her head before starting the day. Whenever they were back at Skyhold, she allowed herself the luxury of relaxation. Soon enough they would be on the road again, and soon enough she'd be back in the thick of battle, protecting her allies from harm. Right now? It was _her_ time.

"Well, now this is an interesting sight," she said to herself as she approached the training quarter. She was normally the only one who trained in the early morning, but someone else was here today as well. So much for some alone time to catch up on reading.

Malora Adaar, the demon nearly twice her size, was swinging her mighty hammer around and destroying their modest training facilities. Cassandra leaned against the wall of the tavern watching, wondering why the brute was up so early and why she was so upset. Malora wasn't wearing her armor, having traded it in for a simple pair of leather breeches and a sleeveless shirt, and her muscles gleamed with sweat rivaling the dew on the patches of grass surrounding them. Her horns, sharpened to a precise point, reflected the morning sun and her dark hair rustled with the force of her manufactured wind; every swing of her hammer disturbing the very fabric of space not dissimilar to the rifts she closed. Cassandra had to admit it was a rather alluring sight, despite her natural predispositions.

_Still, if I let this continue much longer we will not have any training dummies to speak of._

The warrior pushed away from the tavern wall and approached Adaar, calling out her name as she got closer. The demon slowed her swings, her breath heavy, eventually losing enough momentum that she could safely release the mighty weapon. It clamored to the ground and she leaned against a broken post where a training dummy once stood, wiping her face with the bottom of her shirt. Cassandra raised an eyebrow at the show of muscle beneath it, wondering how it was that qunari became so chiseled. She had no doubts that the taller woman would make a much better tank than she did, but Malora had turned in her sword and shield for a hammer shortly after they'd met and taken on a damaging role instead. She'd never spoken a word about it; she'd just let Cassandra keep the role that was most comfortable to her.

"Well, I can see that you have something on your mind. Would you care to talk about it?" Cassandra ran a hand over the splintered wood of another training dummy, mentally arranging the tasks she would need to see to in order to get the area repaired. Everything was damaged beyond further use, and she made an additional note to stay on the right side of the Inquisitor's hammer.

"No," Malora replied, letting her shirt drop back down. She slid to the ground and rested her wrists on her knees, staring blankly into the distance.

Cassandra cocked her head to the side and studied the horned giant. It was hard to imagine that anything could affect her. When they'd met, she'd immediately believed that Andraste had blessed the demon, though she didn't know why. As the months wore on and the quiet qunari took on more and more of the world's burdens, she began to see the mysterious creature as a heroic figure; something out of a fantasy tale. Adaar was larger than life, and nothing could break her down. Her heroics at Haven had cemented it, at least for Cassandra. No one else was so brave. No one else was prepared to stand alone against a spirit that roared through the night with a dragon by his side. No one else could look upon that hideous aspect and keep a cool enough head to do what needed to be done.

_Anyone_ else would have bolted like a coward and doomed them all… but not Malora Adaar.

No, not Malora Adaar. She stood fast and true and when the time came, she struck. She struck hard and fast and Cassandra remembered looking back for a split second as the mountain came down, whispering a prayer to the Maker to watch over the chosen of Andraste. The mountain swallowed Haven, and it swallowed Haven's hero. Something cracked in her heart that night, and it wasn't until the qunari had been found again that its steady rhythm returned.

So, what could possibly have brought the near-fabled storybook legend to destroy the training grounds in frustration?

"You know," she started, taking a seat next to the larger warrior, "we are not just comrades in battle." Cassandra folded her hands neatly, wrists over her own knees. "After all that you have done for us… after all that you have done for me," she said, thinking about how Adaar had made time during their travels to help her close up old Seeker cases and hunt down her targets, "I'd like to think of us as friends."

"Yea." Malora had finally caught her breath, but she still didn't really have anything to say to Cassandra.

The smaller warrior took a shot in the dark. She'd read enough stories to guess at what might be bothering the normally unshakable woman. "Does this have something to do with Josephine Montilyet?"

Malora looked at Cassandra sharply. "What do you mean? Of course not. Why would you say that?"

The human sighed and shook her head. This was worse than one of Varric's novels, and that was saying something. "You need not pretend with _me_, Herald of Andraste. I know that you did not order me to set sentries on the keep just to keep your fancy throne safe. Leliana is not the only one with a network, or with powers of observation."

"Leliana threatened me," Adaar said softly, looking at the ground and fidgeting her fingers.

"She did what?" Cassandra was confused. Adaar might need her recklessness kept in check, but an outright threat made on the Herald and Inquisitor? There was more to this. There had to be.

"She threatened me. Told me to keep away from Josephine. She's probably right. It was stupid anyway." Malora picked up some broken wood and tossed the pieces in front of her, one by one.

_Ah, so that's what brought the mighty giant to her knees._

"And you are going to listen?"

"Of course. I don't need a knife in my back, and I've already wasted too much of the Inquisition's time with this."

"You can hardly stop talking to your political advisor," Cassandra remarked, watching the qunari's face. Malora was in true anguish. Her expression was pained, though she shed no tears, and her eyes were dull and lifeless. Whatever the rogue had said, it must have been profound. "What exactly did Leliana say to you? Be precise, if you can."

"I don't know," Malora said, looking to the sky. "I was so scared most of it didn't really register. She's never asked to speak to me alone before. She said something like Josephine's never been in love, she doesn't want her friend hurt, and I should keep my horns far away." The qunari scrunched up her face, trying to remember. "Yea, that was the gist of it. She made sure I knew there would be a knife in my back if Josephine got hurt.

Cassandra thought about it for a few moments, considering what she knew of Leliana, what she knew of Malora and what she knew of Josephine; piecing the scenario together.

Had Leliana been that blunt?

_Probably_.

Would Josephine have confided in her friend if she had feelings for the qunari?

_Definitely._

Could Malora have completely misinterpreted Leliana's true meaning?

_Most assuredly._

"You know what that tells me?" Cassandra turned the situation over in her mind one more time, looking at it from every angle, but the answer was still the same.

"That I'm in serious danger?"

"No. That tells me that Leliana is genuinely worried about her friend getting hurt. Do you know what _that_ tells me?"

"That Herald of Andraste or no, I'm getting a knife in my back?"

"No," Cassandra sighed. This was harder than she thought. Were all qunari naturally so clueless or did Adaar have to work at it? "It means that Josephine must feel something for you as well. Otherwise, how could you hurt her?"

Malora thought about it for a long time in silence. It hadn't occurred to her to look at the situation that way. She had taken it at face value; Leliana was protecting Josephine from the big bad monster that had inappropriately developed feelings for her. It was only natural for the humans to stick together and band against the strange creature with the horns. It never occurred to her, not in her wildest dreams, that the lovely Josephine Montilyet might actually feel something for her too.

"That's ridiculous, Cass." Adaar shook her head. She was grateful that the human warrior at her side considered her a friend, but in the end, she was still an outsider. She may be the Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste, their general, and whatever other ridiculous titles they wanted to apply to her, but she would always be the outsider. She would always be 'that qunari' that led the Inquisition. She would always be one step removed from an enemy in their eyes. She shook her head again, violently this time, as if she could shake the very horns off its peak.

"Stop that," Cassandra said, getting to her knees and grabbing her friend's face in her hands. "What is wrong with you?" She didn't understand this at all. Adaar liked Josephine, and if it wasn't already clear how Josephine felt from her direction toward the qunari, Leliana's involvement proved it, so what was the problem?

"I wish I could do something about this," Malora said, waving a hand over her face, encompassing her horns and the visage she considered the bane of her existence, "but I can't."

Cassandra sighed. "I don't understand you, Adaar. What do you think people see when they look at you?"

"A monster."

"A… what? Let me tell you about monsters," Cassandra said as she let go of her friend and fell back onto the ground. "Monsters are what we are fighting against. Corypheus is a monster. That dragon that attacked Haven is a monster. The Templars and Mages that cannot put aside their petty quarrels for even a moment; that kill innocents in their war against one another, those are monsters. You," She laid a gentle hand on the qunari's forearm for emphasis, "you are no monster." She got to a knee and squeezed the arm affectionately. "You are my friend, and I do not wish to see you in pain. Here, take this." She reached into her pack and produced a small leatherbound book.

"I'm not reading one of your trashy romance novels, Cass."

"Skip the trashy parts. They're pretty blatant, so don't worry about it sneaking up on you. Read the rest. It could help. This sort of thing happens all the time in stories." She tossed the book into Adaar's lap and shrugged. "It can't hurt. And for what it's worth, I think she wants you too. Leliana is right; she is inexperienced, but that doesn't mean she hasn't noticed you. Don't stay away from her. You can take some time and gather your head but go to her and tell her how you feel. We could all meet the Maker today, and what will you tell Him when he asks if you ever gave the gift of love?"

Adaar gripped the book and looked at the ground. "Thanks Cass. I'll send some extra help to clean up this mess."

"Don't worry about it. We can handle it, I'm sure." Cassandra offered her hand to the larger fighter and helped her stand, craning her neck to look up. The sun was rising just behind the Inquisitor, and for a split second she could swear she saw the shadow of a mighty woman just over the qunari's shoulder. It was gone in an instant though, leaving her to wonder what it was she had seen, if she had in fact, seen anything at all. She stepped back and shook the feeling off, pointing to Adaar's discarded weapon. "Take your ridiculous hammer and go."

"Yea. See ya." Adaar picked up the heavy weapon, threw it over her shoulder, and quickly walked away.

"You forgot," Cassandra started, picking up the book, but the larger warrior was already gone. "Oh well. I wanted to look at this one again, anyway. I wonder if I have time for…" She sat down on a stump and opened the book to her favorite part, absently hoping that Adaar would take her advice and go see Josephine… otherwise she'd have to requisition a lot more training dummies.

* * *

**_Aimless patrol_**

_So now what do I do?_

Malora Adaar patrolled the perimeter, her heavy hammer slung loosely over her shoulder. She didn't often take a watch, being too busy travelling and working with the war council, but every now and then she relieved a sentry so she could pretend that her life was simple again.

_How did I get to this point?_

That was easy to answer. She had been foolish. Instead of spending her time in the tavern with Sera and Iron Bull like everyone expected, she had opted to claim a corner of space in Josephine's office. What an idiotic thing to do. Josephine had probably complained to Leliana and that's what prompted the whole 'talk'. Sure she was the 'Inquisitor' and by rights she could do whatever she pleased, but her presence was hard to ignore and it likely bothered the ambassador. How could Josephine get work done when a monster was lurking in the corner?

Malora heaved an exasperated sigh and looked at the sky. She should have never come here. She should have never joined up with that merc band. She should have just gone back to her homeland and studied the Qun. Sooner or later, she would have been accepted, right? At least she would be among her own kind, where _everyone_ was a monster.

She moved the hammer to her other shoulder and quickened her pace. All was quiet, much to her disappointment, and soon the shift would be changing again. Maybe she'd go to the tavern tonight and see what Iron Bull was up to. It wasn't too late to start behaving the way she was expected to. A qunari mercenary belonged in a bar, not in a fancy office with a book in her too-large hands. Malora brought her free arm up in front of her face and balled a fist.

_It's nearly as big as Josephine's head._

She chuckled at the thought and smiled, serenity washing over her as she recalled the ambassador's lovely features. Josephine was always smiling, whether she was pouring over her notes or negotiating agreements with other dignitaries. There was always a glow surrounding her, and her presence was comforting. Malora loved sitting in those offices and though she did in fact enjoy reading, most of the time she just listened to Josephine breathe.

_I won't be able to go there anymore._

Leliana had made sure of that. She wondered what it was that she had done to piss the assassin off so badly. Malora hadn't made any untoward moves toward Josephine, certainly not any overt ones, anyway. She'd dropped a comment here and there perhaps, just fishing to see what the response might be, but she left it alone when the ambassador had blown her off. So what, then? Malora racked her brain, trying to come up with something, anything that might explain why Leliana was inserting herself into the situation. The qunari stopped short and slowly lowered the hammer to the ground as realization dawned on her.

_Leliana is in love with her._

"Oh, fuck me," she said out loud, not really caring who heard. That _had_ to be the answer. It was the only thing to explain the talk, the threat, all of it. Leliana was telling the warrior to back off because Josephine was her territory. She was asserting dominance. Malora felt tightness in her chest at the idea, and she gripped the hammer firmly in both hands, looking for something to swing it at.

_That won't help._

The mercenary turned herald turned inquisitor closed her eyes and loosened her hold on the weapon again. No, that wouldn't help at all. She'd already destroyed the training area and it hadn't made her feel any better. Dwelling on it out here in the wild, all alone, was dangerous. There was really only one thing to do. She'd go see Josephine and let her know that she meant no disrespect and she would quietly detach herself from the offices. Then she'd get Cassandra and leave for a while. They could hunt rifts or go take care of a few minor issues Cullen had been grumbling about.

Malora attached her weapon to her back and signaled the patrol on the battlements that she was ready to be relieved. As soon as the sentry arrived, she made her way back into the keep and through to the diplomatic office.

"Josephine, do you have a moment?"

The ambassador smiled that charming smile and Malora thought her heart would break in two right there. "Of course, Inquisitor. I always have time for you."

The qunari took a breath and shifted her weight, leaning slightly toward the door. Maybe she could just bolt. That would be easy, right? She could just run straight out that door and never return, never address it. Of course, she'd also never be able to show her face in the war room again, but that was a trivial matter. She could send Cassandra in to deal with the planning and go back to just being a background figure, a nobody that appears when it's time to seal a breach, and conveniently disappears again when the work is done.

"Inquisitor?" Josephine's hands were folded on the desk and her smile had been replaced with a look of concern. Malora had been silent for too long.

"I, uh… Listen, Leliana pulled me aside and…"

"Ohhh, she is _impossible,_" Josephine interrupted, leaning back in her chair and drumming her fingers agitatedly on the desk. The assassin's meddling knew no bounds. She made a mental note to do some meddling of her own. A few hints dropped here and there at the right bar table might be enough to spark something that would occupy Leliana's time and keep her out of everyone's hair.

The mercenary looked around the room nervously. "Listen, I just wanted to tell you that…"

Josephine interrupted her again, "Can we talk somewhere private?" She wasn't precisely ready to address this matter, but if the Inquisitor wanted to talk about whatever it was that was going on here now, she was not opposed.

"I, uh," the qunari stammered, "I guess we can head up to my quarters." Malora turned and led the way up the stairs, panic gripping her. Why did Josephine want to talk in private? Was she going to say something hurtful and she was afraid the big, bad monster would make a scene? Andraste, what little Josephine thought of her. Better to handle this matter quietly and away from any prying eyes. Better for the Inquisition. She gritted her teeth, white anger flowing through her blood. It was just another reminder that she was different, that she didn't quite belong. They couldn't even have a conversation in public.

When they arrived, she placed her hammer on the ground, took a seat on the couch and made herself as small as possible. She rested her massive hands on her knees and leaned backward, watching Josephine pace back and forth. After a few moments, the ambassador began speaking. "I am sorry that Leliana has gotten herself involved in all of this. Sometimes she treats me like a child, but I am fully capable of understanding our association, Inquisitor." She kept pacing, glancing every now and again at the stoic warrior.

"I know she's just trying to protect you. It's fine." Malora flexed her hands a few times and fidgeted on the couch. She regretted sitting down because it made her feel caged, but knew she might appear less intimidating if she were seated. Well, as benign as a seven foot tall horned demon could appear, anyway. No matter what, she wanted Josephine to be comfortable in her presence… to not be afraid.

"It's not that, it's… I mean… Nothing you have said has been… I did not think for a moment that your intentions were in any way romantic…" Josephine stopped pacing and looked down at the qunari, something igniting somewhere in her chest and rushing through her blood to settle in her abdomen. Malora Adaar was a magnificent sight, muscle subtly rippling with every movement of her body, and the ambassador's breathing shifted a little as her eyes roamed the exposed skin. Images crashed into her mind of what it would feel like to have those powerful arms wrapped around her, pushing her to the wall and holding her in place, that searing kiss cutting an electrical pathway through to her center. Now that she was alone with the tall woman, she could not deny the attraction. The sleeveless shirt and leather trousers were a decidedly good look on the warrior, and Josephine's gaze lingered on the sensitive skin just below Adaar's jawline, her lips tingling with the desire to taste it. She was often in close proximity to the qunari due to the nature of their work, but rarely was she afforded the opportunity to unabashedly study what lay beneath the heavy plate armor.

And what lay beneath the armor was solid, chiseled flesh. Malora's musculature was well-defined, much more detailed than even the powerful Cassandra who spent long hours training and sculpting her body. Perhaps it was just something unique to the qunari race, the mysterious metallic people that Josephine knew so little about. She wanted so badly to run her fingertips along those arms, to wrap her hands around those strong shoulders. A low pulse made itself known deep in her core, an insistent pull clouding her mind and demanding she submit to the powerful demon sitting before her.

Surely Malora felt it as well. The air was thick and she was certain her desire was tangible. Any minute now the qunari would be overcome with passion and stand, forcing her to look upward. Any minute now those hands would be roaming her flesh, ripping through her flimsy garments and claiming her. Her body would rise with the motions, an invitation deeper inside, her nails digging into that muscled torso and pulling them to the ground. She would lie down and give everything to Malora Adaar, the evidence of her arousal releasing with vivacity as the powerful warrior's body pressed her down on the cold stone and drove into her. Her fingertips were alive with electricity and she started to reach out, ready to…

"But we're still friends, right?"

The horned demon raised her eyebrows with the words, a simple question, demanding a simple answer… and Josephine's world shattered.

"I… Of, of course, Inquisitor. I am so sorry… I thought," Josephine cleared her throat in a feeble attempt to chase the lightning away. "I have to go…" The ambassador fled the room, looking back for a split second, hoping beyond hope that it was just a jest, that Malora would be pursuing her, would be ready to take what she had very nearly offered… but the warrior did not leave the couch. The mercenary averted her face, and Josephine felt her heart break in half. She had been right, and Leliana had been wrong. Malora Adaar had no interest in her, at all.

"Goodbye, Inquisitor…" she whispered as she left the room.

"Goodbye, Josephine," Malora replied. She waited a few moments to be certain that the ambassador had gone, and then she stood and lifted the couch over her head. Another thirty seconds went by as she let the weight of the furnishing strain her muscles, and then she threw it as hard as she could against the stone wall. The wood shattered and shards flew everywhere in the room, grazing her skin and leaving little splinters behind. The qunari didn't care. That pain was better than the pain she felt inside right now.

Malora fell to her knees on the cold stone floor, hanging her head. This was the way it had to be. These last few minutes _proved_ it. Her imagination was out of control, and in another tick she might have done something she'd surely deeply regret. Being alone with the ambassador had been a huge mistake, a mistake she would never repeat again.

_Oh, she is so lovely…_

Josephine moved with such grace and elegance; even pacing nervously she was a thing of beauty. Malora couldn't help but run her eyes over that shapely body, partially hidden by billowing and brightly colored clothes. Her imagination ran wild with thoughts of touching that silky flesh and tasting the salt on Josephine's skin. She wanted so badly to reach out and pull the human onto that couch, to use her superior strength to lay the woman down gently beneath her; to cover her and hide her away from the rest of the world. She wanted to hear that voice in her ear, those ragged breaths, begging for more. She wanted to feel those nails along her back, desperately scrambling for leverage, pulling her closer. She wanted those legs to wrap around her waist, offering and accepting affection of the most carnal kind. She wanted…

She just wanted Josephine.

Malora shook her head to clear it and slowly got to her feet. She would have to put some distance between them, and the best way to do that would be to leave. There was so much yet to do anyway, and Cassandra was getting restless. It was time to go back out into the world and continue the task of drumming up support for the Inquisition. It would fade in time. Time and distance was all that was needed to put this idea of a romantic affiliation with Josephine Montilyet out of her head. Time, was all it would take.

Time… and maybe a few reckless fights.

* * *

A/N – Why? So I can write an entirely new story for them. I actually just finished the Josephine arc in the game last night and was totally blown away. I'm not even disappointed about Sera anymore. This one was so well-written and entertaining that honestly, I feel like the game itself has ended for me.

I've interpreted enough to get it started, and now I have the freedom to do something entirely new. Super excited. Please look forward to it.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N - Thank you again for the lovely comments. Micheal, I highly recommend playing this LI through at least once. It truly was so good that as I finished up the swordfight, I felt like that was it for me. I was done. I actually started another game to try again for Sera just to have the experience, but as far as I'm concerned, I beat Dragon Age:I because I won Josephine Montilyet's affection. Yea I know there's going to be a sex scene at some point because this *is* a BioWare game, but I don't even need it. Her dialogue was so satisfying (especially if you ask her about the political things riding on her marriage) that I just can't imagine needing anything further._

_I hope you all enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it._

* * *

**_Skyhold courtyard_**

The resounding crack could be heard across the courtyard, and Cassandra immediately leaped into action. She drew her sword and readied her shield, shouting to her recruits as she ran for the keep. "To Arms! To Arms! To the Keep! We are under attack!"

She ran as fast as she could, hoping beyond hope that a rift hadn't opened up in the middle of their stronghold. If the demons could reach even here, then all would be lost. She ran past the frightened civilians, motioning for them to get behind her. "Leliana! What has happened? Is there a breach? Where is the Inquisitor?" She stopped in front of the assassin, looking around for enemies.

Leliana shook her head. "No, there is no breach. I do not know where the Inquisitor is."

"What happened? The fortress itself shook. I saw it." Cassandra relaxed a little, but kept her sword drawn.

"I don't know. I felt it too and came down here to investigate." Leliana stepped back and looked around. "There is nothing out of place that I can see."

Just then the doors to the Inquisitor's personal chambers flew open and the demon emerged. She was in full battle dress, and had her hammer on her back and a handful of daggers at her hip. She wore a gleaming helm that had been custom forged for her individual horn style, and she walked with great purpose through the halls. She nodded to Cassandra as she passed through, "Get the gear. We're moving out."

Cassandra sheathed her sword and turned as the Inquisitor strode past. "Adaar, our equipment is still being repaired. Not all of it has been completed yet. We were not to leave for another two days." Normally she had no problems with pushing back against her superior officer, as Adaar valued her input and often sought her advice, but this time she regretted it. The demon rounded on her and stalked back, her boots echoing a metallic sound throughout the room with every step. She stopped just in front of Cassandra and her speech slowed dangerously. "_Get the gear. We are moving out."_ She turned again on her heel and left the keep, not bothering to check if Cassandra was following her.

The warrior stared after her friend, speechless. "What just happened here?"

Leliana shrugged and pointed to the diplomatic offices. "Let's go see if Josephine knows what is going on. Clearly the inquisitor is after something. Perhaps our ambassador has given her a task."

Cassandra eyed the door nervously, unsure if she really wanted to go in there. "Do you think that's a good idea? The last time I spoke with the Inquisitor, she was rather upset over Josephine. In fact," Cassandra narrowed her eyes at Leliana, "she was so upset that for a moment I believed she might leave the company entirely. She said something about a threat?" The warrior let the question hang in the air.

"A threat? Don't be foolish. I chatted with her, but there was no threat made. I merely wanted to determine her true intentions."

A throat cleared just below where the two women were speaking, and they both looked down at the Inquisition's official dwarf representative.

"Varric?" Cassandra nearly spat the name, but she stepped back and allowed him to join their conversation.

"I saw what happened," Varric said easily.

"You did?" Leliana asked, gesturing animatedly. "Tell us."

Varric cleared his throat again and hooked his thumbs into his belt. "Well, I didn't see what _happened_, but I saw enough to have an idea. Adaar stormed in here looking like someone had just kicked her mabari, and she marched straight into Josephine's office. Next thing I know, they are both heading up to her quarters. Let me tell you, this lot," he gestured to the crowd of people that always seemed to be gathered in the great hall, "very nearly let out a cheer. There was so much fist-pumping and hi-fiving going on you'd think we'd already kicked Corypheus." He took a breath and then continued. "Well, anyway, we all thought that Adaar was finally going to make a move, you know? It's not like the two of them haven't been dancing around each other for months already. But after about five minutes, Josephine came back down and locked herself in her office. That's the end of it, right? Nope. Another minute or two goes by, and the whole fortress shakes. I'm sure you can guess what that was. Someone had better head up to Adaar's quarters and see what she broke. I'll tell you what, I'm glad she is on _our_ side. No mortal being should possess that much strength."

He crossed his arms and nodded to Josephine's door. "I think she's been crying. I listened for a bit, but it broke my heart. I can't imagine what happened between the two of them that could have resulted in all this. I mean, it's obvious to everyone they're crazy about each other. As if we don't have enough shit to deal with as it is."

Cassandra turned to Leliana, narrowing her eyes. "This is all your fault. If you hadn't meddled in their affairs, it would have taken a natural course and turned out much better, I'm sure."

"_My_ fault? She's _your_ friend. You _should _have meddled. You should have seen what was going on and helped me with this." Leliana crossed her arms and glared right back.

"I _would _have if you had bothered to tell me what you were planning. Your secrets will be the death of us all, Leliana." She took a step forward, invading the assassin's personal space.

"Well what would I tell you that you don't already get from those trashy novels you read? Surely you've come across something that could have explained this." Leliana also took a step forward, sticking a finger in Cassandra's face.

"You leave my romance novels out of this, Bard. Why didn't you just get your lute and serenade them to set the mood?" Cassandra made strumming motions with her hands, swaying in time to a silent tune.

"Why don't I just get my lute and break it over your _big head_?" Leliana'd had enough. She reached for the collar of Cassandra's armor, intending to rip the stupid thing from the woman's chest. She hated that armor.

"Why don't you just try it and see what happens?" Cassandra reached for Leliana's hood, intending to rip the ridiculous thing from her head. She hated that stupid hood.

"Ladies, ladies!" Varric inserted himself between the two, spacing out his arms to create distance, forcing them both to take a step back. He looked back and forth between them a couple times. "Wow. This," he made a circling motion with his finger, encompassing them both, "is definitely something you two need to eventually address."

Leliana huffed and turned away. Cassandra just rested a hand on her sword and glared at the back of the assassin's head and that stupid hood.

"All right," he continued, stepping back. "Now that we are all calmed down can we please focus on Adaar and Josephine? You," he pointed at Leliana, "Go deal with that," he pointed to Josephine's door. "We," he gestured to himself and Cassandra," are going to go deal with _that_," he pointed out the doorway. "Cassandra, you go get Vivienne and I'll meet you out front with everyone's gear."

"You are coming with us?" Cassandra asked. That wasn't the usual party makeup. Sera normally accompanied them on missions and Varric was pleased enough to stay at the fortress and write.

"Considering the circumstances, I think it might be better to leave Sera here, don't you? She represents a temptation that Adaar doesn't need right now, and I've no doubt that our little mischief maker would be all too happy to offer… comfort. Besides," he patted his pack happily. "I'll be taking notes for my next story. Go on, Seeker. You're going to need my help with this one, I think." He waved her toward the door and grinned.

"Fine. I'll talk to _you _later," she said to the back of Leliana's head before turning on her heel and stalking out of the keep.

"You know Leliana, Adaar and Josephine aren't the only ones that are obvious to everyone but the involved parties…" He poked the assassin's arm and headed to the undercroft to see what equipment he could scrounge up.

Leliana uncrossed her arms and sighed, shaking her head. There was no time for this… _any_ of this. They barely had a foothold, and everyone's personal problems would be the end of the Inquisition. She looked at Josephine's door again and slumped her shoulders. Perhaps she _was_ the cause of all of this. If she hadn't confronted the Inquisitor, the demon would likely just be quietly sitting in that corner right now. Maybe they just weren't ready and she pushed too hard. She made her way over to the door and tried the handle.

_Locked._

"Josie?" Leliana knocked on the door. Hopefully it was loud enough to be heard through the second one. "Josie? May I come in?"

"No." The sound was muffled, but it was definitely Josephine's voice. The good news was that it was clear and strong; if she _had_ been crying like Varric suggested, it was over now.

"Josie, let me in. I know you want to talk."

"Go away."

Leliana sighed. Sometimes Josie could be so childlike. "Josephine, you will let me in this instant. We cannot afford these distractions. Open this door or I swear I will pick it, drag you out here in front of everyone, and take you over my knee." She pounded the door one more time for good measure, and then nodded in satisfaction as she heard the click of the lock.

"That's better." Leliana stepped into the room and closed the door again, reengaging the latch. She entered the office and leaned against Josephine's desk. She watched as the younger woman moved around it to her normal seat and sat down.

"What can I do for you, Leliana?" Josephine rested her elbows on the desk and steepled her fingers.

"What can you…? You can start by telling me what happened." Leliana turned and leaned over the desk, studying her friend's face.

"What would you like to know?"

Leliana raised an eyebrow. "You know what I am asking. What happened between you and Adaar?"

"Nothing at all. We are _friends_." Josephine emphasized the word, and then took a quill from a drawer in her desk. "I have work to do."

"Friends?" Leliana shook her head.

"Yes, friends." Josephine took out a piece of parchment and started writing.

"I see," the assassin replied, watching the younger woman. "Josie," she started softly, coming around the desk and putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Josie, tell me what happened."

The quill stopped moving and Josephine was still for a long moment. She slowly put the writing tool down and folded her hands in front of her. "I was… I was ready to give myself to her, Leliana. I was so close to making a complete and utter fool of myself. I cannot believe my behavior, or my thoughts."

Leliana took a seat on the edge of the desk and laid her hand over Josephine's.

_This is farther along than I thought. Cassandra was right, I shouldn't have meddled, or at least, I should have been clearer with Adaar. How could she have done the express and complete opposite of what I told her to do?_

"What happened, sweetheart?" Leliana's heart was breaking as she sat there, helpless.

"She came to me and I just… thought I saw something in her eyes. I remembered what you had said and I thought if maybe we were just alone, it would be different. I have never _felt_ anything like it before…" She lifted her hands in front of her face and stared at her fingertips. "It was so… There was _fire _in my hands, right at the tips. It shot everywhere through me as I looked at her, and I wanted very badly to lie down with her. I don't understand. I thought that, I thought she…" Josephine clenched her hands into fists and shut her eyes tightly. "But I was wrong. _You_ were wrong. She doesn't want the dull diplomat. Why would she, when she could have someone adventurous and exciting like Sera?"

Leliana shook her head. This was all wrong. She couldn't have misread the signs, and Adaar had flat out declared her attraction when they spoke. She knew that there could often be… mistranslations… in matters of the heart, but this was so far beyond a simple misunderstanding that she was seriously second guessing her observations.

"Josie, what exactly did she say?"

"I don't want to talk about it. It doesn't matter anyway. I managed somehow to not make a complete fool of myself."

"I'm sure that…"

"I've had about enough of your advice, Leliana," Josephine interrupted in a hardened voice. "If you cared about me at all you wouldn't have put this idea in my head in the first place. She is the _Inquisitor_, the _Herald_ _of_ _Andraste_. It was an absolutely foolish notion to believe that she would have any interest in me. Now, I need to get my mind off of this. Will you please leave? I will come see you at the evening meal." Josephine picked the quill up again and leaned over her desk purposefully.

Leliana looked at her a moment more, but in the end decided it would be best to give her some time to process. She left quietly, and once she was gone, Josephine stood and locked her door again, leaning against it for support.

"Maker, why did this happen to me?" She returned to her desk and put the quill away. She looked at the parchment she had been writing on, and crumbled it. The words were incoherent and it was garbage. She absently traced patterns in the wood of her desk, following the lines of the aged oak. How foolish it was to think that she stood a chance with the demonic hero from across the sea. What a silly fantasy she had, that Malora Adaar would fall in love with her and sweep her away. She closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair, breathing deeply and fighting back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her again.

If only she were more like Sera, the mischievous rogue who always had something sarcastic to quip and always was ready to draw an arrow or down an ale. If she were more exciting and adventurous, perhaps if she ventured outside the keep every now and again, Malora would have noticed her. She couldn't do that, though. She had too much _work_ to do. Being the Inquisition's ambassador was a full-time job, and one that she was rather adept at. Why couldn't Malora appreciate her contributions for what they were? After all, she was working so hard _for_ Malora.

_Because what I do is almost entirely behind the scenes. She is out there with Sera every single day, actually **seeing** her contributions._

Josephine balled her hand into a fist and slammed it on the desk in anger. Why couldn't Malora have chosen _her?_ She would be a much better match for the qunari anyway. She was connected and her family was well on its way to its former glory, mostly thanks to the Inquisitor's efforts. She opened her eyes and gazed at the bronze ship placed carefully and lovingly on a shelf. Malora had gone out of her way to find it, the last intact example of the Montilyet family crest. Why? Why bother? Why do all of these things that made it seem like her interest went deeper than friendship, and then change her mind?

_Sera._

It was the only explanation, really. Sera was the first choice, little diplomat Josie a distant second. Perhaps not even that. Perhaps Cassandra and Leliana were also on that list before her. Perhaps the Inquisitor was only pursuing her because none of them were responsive to her advances. And perhaps she turned around again because Sera had given her the green light. That was probably it.

Josie leaned her head back again and sighed. She knew that Malora had left the keep. The commotion outside was a clue, but she just didn't _feel_ the qunari's presence any longer. She had gone out into the wild again, now free to pursue her romantic interest in Sera without any guilt. She'd made it clear where they stood and that was… absolutely nowhere.

Malora was likely bedding down with Sera right now, letting those clumsy, grimy hands roam all over her magnificent body. Josephine tried not to think about it, but the more she tried, the faster her mind returned to images of that enthralling metallic skin. How she longed to touch it, just once, and as she thought about it, she realized that she had _never_ touched Malora, at all. They had been in close proximity during meetings in the War room and they had spoken often, but there was always something between them. The war table. Her desk. Her clipboard. Josephine bit her lower lip and held back another wave of tears. It just wasn't fair. Why should Sera, uneducated, unfiltered, uncouth and absolutely abhorrent child get the reward of Malora Adaar's affection? Why could it not be her? They were a much better match in every respect. They were closer in age. They were both intelligent. They often agreed on how to handle political issues. They were much better match physically as well. Sera was a thin, ragged thing that probably had a parasitic infection.

_Now keep that in check, Josie. You cannot lose your grace just because you are in pain…_

Josephine sighed again and curbed her dangerously unkind thoughts. She was just so hurt and angry and she wanted to lash out at someone. It was supposed to have gone so differently. Malora was not supposed to be out there tonight with Sera. She was supposed to still be here, perhaps in her quarters lazily holding onto her lover after a night of passion. Josephine imagined what it might be like to wake up in the demon's arms, with that skin pressed against her everywhere, nothing between them.

_Is her skin cold like the metal it resembles? Or is it warm?_

She imagined what it would be like to open her eyes, her arm draped across that muscled torso. Awakening would be the best part, for certain. She would inhale that soft scent just under the qunari's jaw and nibble lightly, silently offering more affection. Malora would stir and those strong arms would close around her, pulling her closer. She would bite down hard on her lover's neck and slip a wrist behind it for leverage, letting her free hand roam across the vast expanse of muscle that made up the commanding fighter's abdomen. She would adjust her body over Malora's, a knee between those powerful thighs to give her purchase. Fire would leap from her center straight to her fingertips, and she would explore every inch of the magnificent flesh surrounding the demon's deepest secrets. She could almost feel Malora's body rise beneath her, silently begging her to enter. She would happily oblige, adjusting herself to fully experience what her lover offered. Slowly, she would approach, relishing the tiny shivers that racked the qunari's belly as she moved a strong hand between them. Softly, she would whisper words of love and affection into the demon's ear. Eagerly, she would tense every muscle of her body in anticipation. And firmly, she would take what belonged to her and no other, swallowing Malora's cry of pleasure with her kiss. Josephine clenched her fists and shook her head violently. This should be hers. _Malora_ should be hers.

_Maker, I want you…_

**_*crash*_**

"Oi, you got this shite locked up tight, yeah?"

Josephine looked up in surprise, jolted out of her fantasy by a half drunken Sera stumbling through her door and gathering in a messy pool on the floor.

"Took _forever_ to pick _that_ one. You got some jars in here?" the rogue said, looking around. "Got some _spiders_ I need to hide, yeah? Gonna give Adaar a surprise when she gets back." The sprightly elf sprung to her feet and scoured the room looking for supplies, digging through Josephine's desk drawers as if she owned them.

"Stop that," the human said as she swatted at Sera. This day just couldn't get any worse.

"What? I'm just gonna nick them when you aren't looking anyway, right? Might as well skip the bullshit. Don't get your titties in a twist." Sera fell backward and gave Josephine a sloppy salute. "You got one up on me, but I'm not out of the game yet, big hat."

Josephine stared incredulously at the elf as she scurried back out the doorway. Had that really just happened? _What_ had just happened? She shook her head to clear it, upset at the interruption of her fantasy, but after a moment, realization dawned on her and her heart brightened just a little bit.

Malora hadn't taken Sera with her.

* * *

**_Somewhere in the wilderness_**

The company walked slowly toward the Hinterlands, Malora Adaar alone at the front. Cassandra and Varric walked side by side, and Vivienne brought up the rear. The Seeker glanced behind her every now and again, half expecting to see a carriage following them with Leliana and Josephine inside.

"Oh, I think she has her work cut out for her with that one, Seeker." Varric shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "That's going to take a while to sort out." He nodded toward the qunari warrior, who had put considerable distance between them, "That too."

"I know I am going to regret this, but… do you have any thoughts?"

"Oh ho ho, Seeker, I have a _lot_ of thoughts. None of them are very flattering." He winked at her and chuckled at the disgusted noise. "In all seriousness, I don't really know enough about what happened to offer anything concrete. There's clearly a miscommunication _somewhere_. We just need to find it and correct it."

"A miscommunication?" She rested her hand on her sword, reassuring herself that it was still there, an old habit.

"Yes, a miscommunication. You know, like that big fight you had with Leliana back there? Misdirected energy. I thought you might have learned something from my books, but clearly you skip over the important stuff and go right to the smut. You know that usually happens _after _you get past all of," He gestured in-between them and Skyhold, "that."

Cassandra gasped and stopped, turning toward him. "I do no such thing. How dare you presume to…?"

Varric held up his hands in defense. "Calm down, Seeker, I was only teasing. Really." He gestured to the path, indicating they should continue. "We can't let her get too far ahead. You and I both know the real reason she is out here."

"She wants to get herself killed," Cassandra replied.

"She wants to remind herself that she can still _feel _something, darling." Vivienne kept a leisurely pace behind them, but remained close enough to add to the conversation if she so chose.

The warrior furrowed her brow and nodded. "Yes, I understand what you mean. I wish I knew what was going on in her head. She holds council with no one."

"She holds council with Josephine," Varric stated matter-of-factly.

"Yes, but _clearly_ that is no longer working out." Cassandra sighed and looked at the sky. It was a bright day and she had planned to train for a while, read a bit, and then invade the rookery and irritate the spymaster before making her rounds of the company. Being back on the road was always nice, but there were many upgrades to their equipment that needed to be made and she was working closely with the new arcanist to apply the enhancements. There was still much to do and many allies to secure. Both the Inquisitor and Josephine needed to be at the top of their game, and instead they were…

"Perhaps you can get something out of her. She will not talk to me," Cassandra said, gesturing to Varric.

He shrugged and nodded. "It's worth a try. Wish me luck!" He quickened his pace to a comfortable jog to catch up to the much taller qunari.

"Hey boss, can you slow it down a bit? Some of us are a lot lower to the ground."

Adaar glanced at him in irritation, but slowed her pace to match his. "Where is Sera?"

"Sera had some Red Jenny stuff to do or something. Who knows? I'm a better rogue anyway. So… you want to tell me what that was all about back there?"

"Why is everyone so interested in my personal life? Leliana, Cassandra, now you?" Adaar stopped short and turned to him. "I think you all need to focus on the real problems here."

"Oh, I'm focused on the problem," Varric replied, looking up at the much taller and stronger demon. "_You _are the one who is losing focus. Why don't you just tell Josie you love her? It's really very simple. I promise." He crossed his arms and stood his ground, determined to get an answer out of her.

"Because Leliana is a better match for her." The warrior turned back toward the encampment, which was coming into view, and resumed her pace. Varric stared after her, chuckling to himself.

"Miscommunication, indeed. Well, that should work itself out soon enough." He returned to Cassandra's side and stuck his hands back in his pockets.

"Well?" she asked him, looking at him in earnest.

"Well what?" he replied easily.

"What did you learn?"

"Absolutely nothing we didn't already know." He started to whistle a merry tune, oblivious to the warrior's ire.

"She had to have said _something_ to you."

"Nothing particularly important." He motioned to the camp, indicating the conversation was over.

"Yes, we are nearly there." She glanced back at Vivienne, who shrugged as if to say, 'what do you want _me_ to do?' and then signaled for them to all quicken their pace and join Adaar.

"Inquisitor," she said as they arrived.

"We will rest here for the night and then finish closing the rest of the rifts in this area. We leave at dawn."

The four entered the forward camp and were greeted by the jovial face of Scout Harding. She nodded to the company and addressed Adaar. "All is quiet here, Inquisitor. It's good to see you again." The demon grunted and pushed past, heading for an empty tent.

"Wow, what's gotten into her? She always has something flirtatious or cute to say." Scout Harding looked at Cassandra curiously.

"It's… complicated," the warrior replied before turning to the rest of the group. "I think perhaps the Inquisitor could use some time to herself. Let's get something to eat and rest up. I have a feeling that this is going to be a hard mission."

"Don't you worry; I had ol' Bianca overhauled last week. She's ready for action. My quill is, too," Varric said with an exaggerated wink at the Seeker.

"Ugh," Cassandra replied, heading toward an unoccupied tent, but diverting when she saw Scout Ritts in a corner reading a book.

Normally she and the Inquisitor shared quarters, talking long into the night about tactics and plans, but tonight? The demon needed some time alone and she wasn't exactly keen on being in proximity of Adaar's misery. She glanced over at the tent her superior officer had chosen as she made her way to Ritts and said a small prayer to the Maker she would be all right. "Sleep well, Adaar. Perhaps things will look brighter in the morning."

* * *

**_Correspondence, beginning a few days later_**

* * *

_Cassandra_

_Things here are deteriorating quickly. Can you convince Adaar to return? Josephine has missed ten important meetings, mixed up letters to four different dignitaries, and today she isn't even wearing matching socks. She has also stolen some of my old equipment and taken to training in the military quarter. I fear she is losing her sanity._

_I've polished my lute. It's waiting for your head. Hurry._

_Leliana_

* * *

_Leliana_

_Adaar gave me a warden helm, so you might wish to reinforce that instrument. I'd hate to see your ability to serenade damaged. I will try to convince her, but the pain is still raw. I can very nearly feel it in my own heart. Their species is so strange. In so many ways she is a rock that we may all lean on. In others? She is a wreck. This has brought her to her knees. She is taking risks, more than usual. But she is wearing matching socks. I will do my best._

_I have a new book by a sapphic writer named J. Revisited. Interesting read. I thought you might like it._

_Cassandra_

* * *

_Cassandra_

_I am not reading any of your trash, and if that was supposed to be a pass at me it wasn't a very good one. Situation is getting dire. Josephine no longer dresses to impress. She is wearing my gear full time now. She is spending evenings at the tavern with Sera. Maker, I think she is even picking up that awful slang. Please try harder._

_That helm cannot protect you. I have other ways…_

_Leliana_

* * *

_Leliana_

_I am trying my best. I do not know if you realize this, but Adaar is twice my size. I can hardly tuck her under my arm and carry her back against her will. The Inquisitor will return when she has a mind to, or at least, that is what she told me. A letter from Josephine might help speed things along. Can you arrange it or forge one?_

_I find myself strangely interested in these 'other ways' you speak of. Do elaborate._

_Cassandra_

* * *

_Cassandra_

_That wasn't a very good pass, either. I am beginning to see why this all went wrong with Adaar, getting advice from you. I suggested a letter to Josie, but she refuses to write, and normally I would not have a problem forging one but this is too close. It might backfire. I do not understand why both of them are being so stubborn. Today she spent her day sparring with Iron Bull, but I think she is after information. Perhaps she believes that because he is also qunari he can advise her? I do not know, but the political situation is suffering badly. I cannot perform her duties. We need her back at her post._

_There are truly no ideas from these novels you have?_

_Leliana_

* * *

_Leliana_

_There are many good ideas, but I cannot share them with you because you spurn my advances. The situation here is not much better. Vivienne's healing magic can no longer compensate for Adaar's recklessness. However, things may work themselves out sooner than we expect. It won't be long before she can physically take no more and is beyond Vivienne's skill. We will need to bring her to Solas._

_Cassandra_

* * *

_Cassandra_

_If you could bring yourself to make a proper advance, perhaps it wouldn't be spurned. I've convinced Josie to spend at least a little more time dealing with our political obligations, but she has this idea in her head that Adaar wants someone exciting like Sera. I can't get through to her. Can you find out what the Inquisitor said when they were alone?_

_Leliana_

* * *

_Leliana_

_The Inquisitor did not say much at all. I believe this is where most of the issues stem from. It is hard to get any information from her about herself and her feelings. The problem is what she didn't say, not what she did say. It doesn't matter now anyway. She has taken a wound to her left arm and it is interfering with her ability to fight and use the mark. Circulation has been damaged. She has agreed to return to the keep and let Solas heal it, but she has ordered me to handle all the war room meetings alone. We should be back within the week._

_Was that an invitation to attempt another bad pass at you? I thought I was doing rather well, considering._

_Cassandra_

* * *

_Cassandra_

_If that's all you learned about charming a woman from those books you've read, you need some new books. Josephine brightened visibly when I informed her Adaar was on her way back. I did not tell her about the injury, but I expect that it won't take long for word to reach her. She has likely been keeping tabs on your movements. She is still wearing my old equipment, but at least she has stopped spending so much time at the tavern._

_Leliana_

* * *

_Leliana_

_Well, this isn't exactly familiar territory for me. I'm doing my best. Good call on keeping the injury quiet for now. What should I tell Adaar? Do we want to try to get these two in the same room and force a confrontation?_

_Cassandra_

* * *

_Cassandra_

_Forcing a confrontation is what got us here in the first place. I say this time we watch them, but don't interfere directly. I will continue to work on Josephine; you continue to work on Adaar. Sooner or later one of them will give in. They were clearly made for one another._

_You aren't doing so badly, by the way._

_Leliana_

* * *

_Leliana_

_Good to know. We should be arriving tomorrow. Adaar is taking her time with the travel. I swear these last few miles have taken longer than the hundred previous. Our letters travel faster. I have no idea why we are stopped at this camp. We could have been back at the keep tonight. Shall I come see you when we do finally arrive?_

_Cassandra_

* * *

_Cassandra_

_Yes. Bring the book._

_Leliana_

* * *

_A/N – So, I apologize to any Cassandra purists out there I might have offended. I really didn't intend to do anything with her at all, but it just kind of happened when I wrote this chapter. In my backstory, the warden never got Leliana (honestly, I'm about as bad at getting the girl I want in games as I am in real life) so she's available. And the impression that I got from Cass while playing wasn't that she would never, not ever… it was more that it just wasn't going to happen with the Inquisitor. For Cassandra to go so out of her comfort zone and into dangerous and unfamiliar territory like that, it would have to be someone special, that she's known for a long time, that she **really** trusts_._ It would have to be someone… like Leliana. So, I hadn't planned on expanding on their 'relationship' (maybe some more letters cause those are fun)… But if anyone is interested in it I **do** have some thoughts… and may have already jotted them down… You know. For personal use._

_Anyroad, it's not critical chapterage to this fic. So I'll leave it up to you readers whether you give a flip about Cassandra's first sapphic experience or not._


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N –_

_Ash – So that's it, huh? She doesn't even come to you before the last battle to say good luck? Bummer. Well, at least I'm not missing anything. Still banging my head against trying to get the Sera romance to activate. Bullshit it's easier with a qunari._

_And in regards to the reviews – you know my Mass Effect fic was like that too. Tens and tens and TENS of thousands of reads on that one and it still gets a few hundred weekly views, yet only a handful of comments. Granted, they were mostly positive so I'm not complaining, but still. Works that didn't get a fraction of the time and effort I put into that nearly 300k word monstrosity blow up with reviews. So, perhaps my stories aren't as entertaining as I think they are. Or they are just not terrible enough to comment on, but not good enough to comment on, either._

_The other possibility is that no one knows it's here and folks like you are finding it on accident. The filters really are terrible. It should be Inquisitor (f) and Inquisitor (m) and then authors can further specify from there which particular race we are writing about. Right now anyone looking for a story featuring a male Adaar finds my fic too, and anyone who is just looking for a female Inquisitor/Josephine (and isn't picky about the race) may NEVER find it because of the way I classified it. Not fair to authors, not fair to readers._

_Still, I write because I have a story to tell and it is my hope that someone might enjoy reading it. Feedback is gravy, but in the end, it's not why I do this._

* * *

**_Skyhold, late night_**

Josephine sat with a mug of cold ale in her hands, staring off into nothingness. It had been another hard day of training, with the occasional break to see to Inquisition matters. She had begun to look forward to the end of the day when she could retire to the tavern and have a few drinks with the other rogue trainees. She took a long sip and closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the fiery liquid scorching her throat.

"You've become a permanent fixture here, Ambassador." Iron Bull sat down next to her, signaling for the barmaid to bring him a drink.

"Yes, it is good to relax after the long day. I have been missing out." Josephine took another sip of her ale and set it on the bar. "It is good to see you again. You know, next time we spar I will not be such an easy target."

"Ha, you weren't an easy target last time." He threw some coins on the counter and accepted his drink from the barmaid. "But Ambassador, I have to ask, why are you here?"

"I am here because Leliana asked me to help build the Inquisition. That is common knowledge." She turned toward him and shrugged.

"That's not what I mean and you know it. Oh, I get that Leliana asked you to come help us out, but as our ambassador and diplomat, not as a fighter. We've got more than enough rogues to go around. Why are you out _here _instead of in there?" he pointed in the general direction of the keep.

Josephine turned back to her ale and was quite for a long time. Finally, she spoke in a soft voice, "I want to be more like Sera."

Iron Bull let out a guffaw and slapped his thigh. "Oh ho, are you kidding me? Why on earth would you want to be more like Sera? Why would _anyone_ want to be more like Sera?"

"Because… she is desirable."

Iron Bull looked intently at the Inquisition Ambassador. She was truly a lovely woman, even out of her normally decorated outfits. She had taken to tying her hair into a simple ponytail, and she wore the leather boots, trousers, and vest of a bard. The gear was well worn, but it was high quality. It had belonged to Leliana when she still walked the world. He tapped the bar thoughtfully, all the questions she had asked him as they sparred earlier that day returning to the forefront of his mind.

* * *

"_Do qunari feel love?" She stabbed quickly and spun away, hoping to catch Iron Bull off guard._

"_We do, but expressing it the way humans do is expressly forbidden by the Qun. Anyone who is caught doing so will be retrained, which is another way of saying they are locked up in solitary confinement and beaten until they promise to give up their evil ways." Iron Bull danced around the blades, bringing his sword to a defensive position._

"_That is awful. Do all qunari follow this rule?" She circled him warily, watching for the slightest muscle to twitch._

"_I did when I lived in my homeland, but not anymore, I guess. I doubt Adaar does, being Tal-Vashoth and all. Her parents came here to escape the rigid structure of the Qun. Those of us out here in the world need to take comfort where we can find it. We aren't bound by the laws of our homeland, though they would like to extend their reach here." He strafed and spun, bringing the sword level with her head._

"_Do you know anything about her past?" Josephine tucked and rolled, easily avoiding the fatal slash. She got to her feet behind him, raising her blades again and waiting for him to recover._

"_Me? Nah, I only just met her. I've heard some things, but her past was mostly just mercenary stuff. The usual things you humans hire us 'Oxmen' for. You likely know more about her than I do, Ambassador." He regained control of the sword's momentum and turned to her again, smiling. She was getting better. _

"_Perhaps." She lunged and twisted, going for the killing blow._

"_You know, you could just ask Adaar these things. I know she'd be delighted to talk with you." He pulled a knife from his belt and deflected her blades, causing her to lose her balance and drop them. He let the sword fall to the ground and caught her around the waist, knife to her throat. "Good match, Ambassador."_

"_Good match," she replied as he released her from his grip. She bowed to him and picked her weapons back up._

* * *

Yes, she definitely had a motive for all of this and it wasn't a genuine desire to throw away her education and reputation to live a life like at the bottom like Sera. "You mean you think the Inquisitor is interested in her."

Josephine shrugged. "Maybe. She is quite attractive."

"In her own way, perhaps. What makes you think Adaar wants her?"

"They are always talking. Always on missions. There's no one else in camp that she spends so much time with."

"There's Cassandra," he replied easily. In fact, he thought that if there was anyone in the camp that might be able to give Josephine competition for Adaar's affection, it would be Cassandra, not Sera.

She shrugged. "Regardless, I think that if Malora can just see that I'm more than a stuffy, pompous politician, she could think of me as more than just a friend... Well, I'm building a troupe."

"You're doing what?" Iron Bull held back another guffaw. Josephine had clearly lost her mind.

"I'm building a troupe, a party. We're planning to go out adventuring. She'll notice me then, and respect me."

"All she is going to notice is that you have wasted time and energy and her Inquisition has suffered. Get a bath and put on your normal clothes before she gets back. Go to your offices and wait for her. Believe me; she won't be able to stay away for much longer. She's never been gone this long before. This has to be killing her."

"No. I've hidden behind my political lies and maneuverings long enough. It has cost me too much. I want to be out there in the world, I want to be by her side fighting."

"She'll never go for that, you know."

"And why not?" Josephine picked up her mug of ale again and drained it, motioning to the minstrel that they'd be starting their meeting soon and it was time to gather the rest of the bards.

"Adaar is a … complicated woman, even for a qunari. We aren't given to expressing our feelings in general, but you have to know that there is something there with you. Everyone sees it. You see it too. I don't know what went wrong between the two of you and I'm not going to pry, but I can pretty much guarantee that she is not going to let you leave the safety of this fortress, especially not after a threat on your life has already been thwarted once."

"She doesn't control me," Josephine said, an edge in her voice.

Iron Bull inhaled deeply and shook his head. "That's not what I meant. I meant that," he continued, but Josephine had already pushed away from the bar and left to meet with her bard troupe. He sighed and signaled to the barkeep for another, saluting Sera as she came down the stairs and joined the rogues who were leaving the tavern. That whole situation was a mess, and he wasn't sure there was anything he could do about it.

"Damn it, Adaar, you need to get back here and deal with this." He sipped the ale thoughtfully; wondering how to spin this in his letters back home.

* * *

**_Skyhold, late afternoon_**

"I just want it to be known that you are forcing me to do this."

"Duly noted, Inquisitor." Cassandra glanced at Adaar's arm, which was swollen and discolored. The mighty woman never complained, but she was holding it close to her side and it was clear that it pained her. "You must have that looked at by Solas. We can do nothing in the field if you cannot close rifts." She hated forcing Adaar to come back but she didn't really have a choice. Vivienne wasn't a rift mage and her skill in healing only went so far. They needed Solas to treat Adaar's injury. He knew more about the mark than any of them and he had already treated her successfully once when she had a far greater wound.

"Let's just get this over with," the horned giant said, entering the gates. "Have him meet me at the tavern. I will be waiting there for him." She pushed past Cassandra and strode purposefully to the alehouse, determined to stay as far away from the keep as possible.

"Darling, is that who I think it is?" Vivienne pointed to the far end of the training grounds, where Josephine was holding court, addressing a company of rogues.

Cassandra squinted at the location for a few moments, and then looked at Varric, eyes wide.

"Yup," he said, shielding his brow from the sun. "That's Josephine all right. _And_ Sera. That's not a half-bad look on her, though that equipment has seen better days. Looks like Adaar hasn't noticed. She's really wrapped up in her own misery if she doesn't see _that_."

"Leliana wasn't kidding," Cassandra said to herself, crossing her arms. "Look," she said, pointing. The rogues had apparently finished their meeting and were heading into the tavern.

"Yea," Varric said, nodding. "Uh oh. Adaar has no idea what Josie has been up to, huh?"

"No," the warrior replied, a little guiltily. She could have at least warned the Inquisitor that Josephine might be outside on the grounds. "This is a disaster."

"Yup. You want me to go head her off?" Varric nodded toward the swiftly moving rogues.

"No. I need you with me. Vivienne?" She looked pleadingly at the mage, hoping she would help.

Vivienne let out an exasperated sigh, but nodded. "I will try to delay her, but you do realize that sooner or later Adaar is going to have to deal with this. You cannot shield her from pain forever."

"I know that," Cassandra replied. "I just need to sort out what has been going on here first and get a handle on things. Leliana will have more information for us. Just go cut that off before there is another incident. The tavern is not nearly as well-built as the keep."

Varric shook his head as the mage walked away, signaling Josephine to join her. "Josie looks pretty good in that bard getup. Maybe intercepting her wasn't the best idea."

"Perhaps not, but right now we need to find out what has been going on here. Come," she said, walking toward the keep. "We will stop off and send Solas to Adaar, and then meet everyone in the war room."

"You want me in the war room? You _must_ be desperate, Seeker." He chuckled to himself and fell into step beside her as she led the way to Solas's room. She knocked lightly, then entered and gestured for him to gather his things.

"Adaar has taken a serious injury to her arm. She needs your help. Please go see her at the tavern."

"At the tavern? I would have thought she'd be in Josephine's office." he asked, picking up his staff and a small pouch of reagents.

Cassandra sighed. "She is at the tavern, and I will thank you to keep your comments to yourself."

"Very well. I will treat Adaar and report to you when I have more information."

"Thank you, Solas. Varric, let us convene the war council." She led the way over to the war room, taking note that Josephine's office was in a state of disarray and dust had begun to gather on the desk.

"Well, she sure has been shirking her duties, Seeker."

"Yes, I can see that. Hopefully Leliana can explain the situation." She pushed open the doors, touching the rune that would summon the advisors. She tapped her foot impatiently, resting a hand on her sword. Five minutes passed, and just when she was about to activate the rune again, Cullen entered, nodding to her.

"Cullen, it is good to see you. How fare the troops?" she asked.

"Morale is low," he replied. "The Inquisitor's long absence has caused minor talk. It is nothing we cannot handle."

"Damn it. Where is Leliana?" She looked around as if the assassin was hiding somewhere in the shadows.

"I was delayed," the voice came from somewhere behind her, and the sound of it made her heartbeat pause, just for a moment. She closed her eyes and shook it off as Leliana made her way to her customary spot behind the table. When she opened them again, they found the assassin's for a moment, and then she looked away quickly, toward the empty spot where Josephine would normally stand. Varric watched the exchange between the two with interest, suppressing a grin.

_So I was right after all, Seeker._

"Josephine will not be joining us?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

"No," Leliana replied. "I take it Adaar will also be absent?"

Cassandra nodded, looking back at Leliana. The hood had fallen over her forehead, hiding her eyes. Part of her was grateful that she wouldn't have to burn under that gaze, but another part of her wanted to get lost in it.

"I have sent Solas to heal her arm. I hope that he takes his time, but I fear once she is well enough to travel again she will take us back out."

"What exactly is going on with the Inquisitor?" Cullen asked. He was clearly in the dark about something big.

Leliana folded her hands into her sleeves and turned toward him. "She has some… personal… issues to work out."

"The same issues as the Ambassador?"

"You could say that," Cassandra answered.

"So this war council will be little more than discussing how to fix our internal personal problems," he said disgustedly. "We have barely been in operation for a year and already we are falling apart from within. If they cannot work together, we will need to find a new ambassador."

"I believe that we might be able to fix the problems, Cullen. It will just take time," Leliana said.

"Time that we do not have. Can you not see this board? We have at least thirty minor issues to deal with and several major ones looming over our heads, not to mention Corypheus is not sitting idly by while we dance around."

"What would you have us do?" Varric asked. "Just get rid of Josephine? See how Adaar takes _that._ Or maybe you want to get rid of the Inquisitor. Good luck getting your troops to follow _then_. 'Sorry, but we can't close any rifts anymore because we threw the Herald of Andraste out on her horns and it's likely Corypheus will hand us our asses on a platter, but keep fighting the fight!' Yea, that will work out well." He crossed his arms and glared a challenge at Cullen. He understood the man's concerns and shared them, but the fact was that they couldn't do this without Adaar, and Adaar _wouldn't_ do this without Josephine.

"He's right, loathe as I am to admit it," Cassandra interjected, glancing at Varric. "What has the situation here been like with Josephine? Somehow we must get them talking again."

Leliana stepped into the shadows and leaned against the wall. "She has been spending the bulk of her time training with a group of other rogues, including Sera. That's been a… strange... development. At first I was convinced that Sera was just doing it to play cruel jokes on Josie. Perhaps at first she was. But it's turned into something different. I think they have become… friends. It is very odd. They have a group of a few other bards, including the tavern minstrel, and they train together, hold meetings, and communicate with other rogue troupes… I think Josephine has even been helping Sera with some Red Jenny stuff."

"That's… interesting," Cassandra said, shifting to try to get a better view of Leliana's face. The woman was nearly entirely hidden by shadows, and she found it slightly disappointing.

"Yes, it is," the assassin continued. "In any event, I have not really given her grief over it because she is safe enough in the fortress, but I fear she is getting restless. I have had agents eavesdropping on their meetings and they have begun to talk about taking their merry little band on the road."

Cassandra narrowed her eyes. "You will allow this?"

Leliana shrugged and the hood fell back slightly, revealing her eyes. "Josephine is a grown woman, Cassandra. I cannot keep her here against her will."

The warrior's heart skipped another beat at the sound of her name on Leliana's lips, and she hoped nothing showed on her face. Leliana's eyes bored directly into hers for a moment, and then the assassin leaned her head forward again, letting the cowl hide her face once more.

Cassandra mastered herself again and cleared her throat before speaking. "What would you have me do, Spymaster?"

Leliana chuckled at the name only Cassandra dared to apply to her. "Adaar must be informed. Regardless of how their personal interaction works out, she must be informed and decide how to proceed. We need an ambassador. If Josie truly will not return to her post we will find another one, but if at all possible we must convince her to return. It is clear she is only doing this to get Adaar's attention. Perhaps if we can correct the miscommunication between them, we can all go back to work."

"Yes," Cassandra replied. "Tomorrow we will hold council with her and remind her of her duty to the Inquisition."

"Very well. If you need me, you know where to find me…" Leliana glanced one more time at Cassandra from under her hood and disappeared into the shadows.

"Do you need anything from me?" Cullen asked, looking at the Seeker.

"You just keep morale up. Open some kegs; tell the troops it is on the Inquisitor's orders. Tell them she is pleased with how hard they are all working."

"It would mean more coming from her."

"It would," Cassandra agreed. "I will try to arrange an appearance. Varric?" She gestured to the door, signaling that he should precede her.

"See you later, Cullen," he said as he walked out the door. "So now what?" he asked as they moved through the hallway to Josephine's offices.

"Solas will likely only need a day to heal her. Tomorrow we will approach her and explain the situation."

"You really want to wait until tomorrow?" he asked, looking up at her. "Why?"

"Tomorrow," she said flatly, leaving the offices and striding purposefully out of the keep. He hung behind at the exit, watching her walk away and head toward her usual corner of the training grounds. Something was bothering the Seeker, and it wasn't just Adaar and Josephine's awkward romance.

"Oh Seeker, is this what I think it is?"

He crossed his arms and grinned wickedly. There wasn't enough paper in Skyhold for all the notes he needed to take.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Skyhold, Tavern, evening_**

Malora Adaar entered the tavern, breathing deeply of the scent of stale ale and overcooked meat. Despite her reasons for staying away, it was good to be home. Everyone let out a cheer as she entered, and she signaled for a drink, taking a seat at the bar. She unfastened her plate mail chestpiece and set it to the side, stretching her arms and shoulders, grateful for the breeze blowing through the windows that cooled her damaged flesh.

"Inquisitor, it's good to see you again. We were beginning to think a rift swallowed you up." The barmaid set a mug of frothy liquid in front of Malora and smiled.

"Not yet, though I do have some battle scars." She lifted the mug and sipped, nodding in satisfaction. "An excellent brew. What do you call this one?"

"Alchemist's Bane. It's got seven different grains and five different hops. Very potent. That will knock you on your arse after a long day of hunting rifts."

Adaar lifted the mug in appreciation and took another drink, letting the strong spirits wash smoothly down her throat.

"So what happened to the arm, anyway?" The barmaid wiped down the counter next to where Adaar was sitting, nodding to the injury.

"Yes, what happened," Solas added as he took the empty seat next to her and dumped his herbs and reagents on the bar. "Let me see this…" He took her arm gently and pulled the sleeve of her loose tunic up over the gaping wound. He pulled away the makeshift bandage and scrunched up his face in disgust.

"It's nothing, really." She took another long drink of the potent alcohol, hoping it would get to work soon and mask her pain.

"This is more than just nothing. I do wish you would take me into the field more often, especially when you are specifically targeting rifts." He cut the bandage away and set to work cleaning the injury. It was deep and festering, and there was magic embedded within her flesh.

"You and Sera don't get along, and I need Sera's network out there. I don't need the headache. Figure out how to make it work, and I'll start bringing you again. Until then, I will have to make do with Vivienne." She drained the mug and banged it on the bar as Solas poked a particularly painful part of her arm.

"Stop squirming. There is a…" He parted the wound wider with his left hand, manipulating an instrument inside with his right. "There is a shard in here." He pulled the offending material out and dropped it into a small glass jar. "I will hold onto this for research. This is why it wouldn't heal."

"Yea," she said, gritting her teeth. "Thanks for the warning before doing that…" She flexed her left hand a few times, sending the pulses along her skin that would activate the magic of the mark, and nodded. "You were right though. The link is restored. I can control it again."

"Yes, well," he started, moving his surgical tools to one side and taking out a healing poultice. "You still need to heal this injury before attempting to close another rift. Give it at least a week, Adaar." He spread the poultice and then gripped his staff, activating his magic to close the wound.

"A week, yea," she replied, moving her arm up and down. The scar would be hideous, but it would heal. What was another scar? "Thanks, Solas."

"You are more than welcome, Inquisitor." He gathered his things, preparing to leave, just as a raucous group, singing loudly, came through the door. He and the Inquisitor both turned to see what the commotion was, and the qunari nearly fell from her barstool. Josephine, _her_ Josephine, was in the lead, with Sera just behind her. The ambassador wasn't dressed normally, though, and she had weapons strapped to her belt. She wore a worn pair of leather highboots with fitted trousers and a leather vest; a popular style among rogues. She and Sera were followed by a group of three more rogues, similarly dressed, with instruments and packs and supplies. Josephine motioned to a corner table, where her group headed to sit down, and then she turned to the bar, looking for the barmaid.

Her eyes locked with Malora's, and for a moment, the entire world melted away. Noise, scent, taste, awareness, all of it disappeared as those piercing eyes looked straight through her. For an agonizingly long moment, all the emotion came rushing back to her, crashing into her chest and reminding her of why she was doing this at all. Memories of the day Malora left, memories of how she felt as she reached out, memories of the raw pain of separation and denial of the proximity she had become so accustomed to, all of it flowed straight to her heart and it was all she could do to keep herself from running into the demon's arms.

Instead, she took a deep breath, rested a hand on her dagger, and nodded. "Inquisitor," she said as she walked up to the bar and dropped a few coins.

"Inquisi…" Malora stood up and looked Josephine up and down. This was not what she had expected. What was the ambassador doing out here in the tavern? Why was she dressed like a fighter? Didn't she have a million alliances to cement? Shouldn't she be warm and comfortable in her office, the gentle light of a candle dancing across her lovely features? Shouldn't she be scheming some sort of new intrigue or planning a suggestion for how to handle a situation for their next war room meeting?

"Josephine, what…" she finally found her tongue, though coherent words were hardly on the tip of it.

"Inquisitor," the woman replied coolly, taking the tray the barmaid handed her. "It is good to see you have returned. If you will excuse me." She left the counter and Vivienne took her place.

"I apologize, Adaar. I delayed her as long as I could. She just isn't the gossip she used to be." The older woman ordered a glass of wine and took a seat.

Malora leaned back against the bar for support. Josephine had just walked away from her a second time, and it was just as devastating as the first. Why did this keep happening to her?

"You might want to go after her," Solas said as he cleaned up the rest of his things. "From what I understand she has been on a rampage since you left, and that is the result."

"Indeed?" Vivienne said, motioning toward Adaar. "So has this one. Imagine that."

"I… I don't understand any of this," the qunari said, shaking her head. "Why would she be out here when she is supposed to be working in her office?"

"Why don't you go ask her?" Solas closed up his pack and pointed at her arm. "One week, Adaar. No sooner. You," he looked pointedly at Vivienne, "don't let her close any rifts for at least a week."

"Fine, we get it," Malora said, waving him away, her eyes still on Josephine. The human glanced back at her every now and again, and she decided that she didn't have a choice but to find out what was going on. Besides, she needed to get away from all these mages.

_I should have convened the war council. I should have gone with Cassandra._

She stood up straight, contemplating whether or not to get another drink before venturing over there. Josephine was the one in control of this encounter. She was with a group of her friends, including Sera which was odd considering how she felt about the girl, and she clearly was the dominant force in the room. All the patrons nodded to her troupe as they walked by, and the serving girls dropped off several additional drinks, presumably gifts from other customers. "Maker, what the hell happened while I was away?" She decided against getting another drink in the end. Her mind was already clouded enough from the residual pain of Solas's less-than-compassionate surgery, and the potency of the alchemical drink. She gathered what was left of her courage and walked over to the table to stand beside Josephine, looking down at the group.

"Inquisitor!"

"Lady Adaar!"

"Your Worship!"

"Piss off, you."

Well, at least her name still commanded some authority, though she noted that Josephine did not look up at her. "Maryden, Sera, gentlemen," she nodded at them all and then turned to the ambassador. "Lady Montilyet, may I have a word with you?"

Josephine shrugged and nodded, standing up. "Sera, can you please finish going over the plan and make sure everyone has a map? We'll be departing soon."

"You'll be what?" Malora grabbed Josephine's arm and pulled her to a corner of the bar.

"Let go of me. The Josies are going on a mission for the Jennys. Don't worry; I am not using Inquisition resources for this. This is entirely out of my own pocket." She crossed her arms and stared up at the much taller woman, feeling that pull start again in her abdomen. How could she have forgotten how Malora's presence affected her?

"You are going on a mission? With that group? What, outside the fortress? What about your duties here? What the hell are the 'Josies'?" Malora was floored. This wasn't happening. Everything she knew to be true was unraveling, and it just wasn't right.

"I'm sorry, Inquisitor, but it's classified. It will help our cause, but it's better if you don't know the details. Is that all?" Josephine clenched a fist under her arm, willing it to stay at her side and not reach out to touch Malora. The Inquisitor had been injured, and her left arm was swollen and looked like it had been recently tended to. The question burned on her tongue, but she held back asking it. How she longed to care for Malora when she returned from the field! What wonderful nights those would be, tending to the injuries, talking late into the evening about the progress they had made in their respective areas of the movement, lying in one another's arms as the sun rose over the battlements… how glorious it would be.

"No, that is not all. You can't leave the fortress! You have alliances to deal with and other diplomatic obligations. You should be inside the keep, doing what you do best." Malora gestured to their center of operations frantically.

"I officially resign my post as Inquisition Ambassador as of today. I will still assist the Inquisition, but I have a new calling now." She loosened her fist and adjusted her vest, checking that all her hidden weapons were still in place.

"Josephine, I can't let you do that. I can't let you just walk out of here and run off into the wild." Malora took a step forward, unsure what she was going to do, but knowing she had to do _something_.

"You can't? Is that so? Well, Inquisitor, you and I are just friends and you have no vote in what I do." Josephine stood her ground, hooking her hands into her belt, dangerously close to her daggers.

Malora stopped in mid-step, stricken. The way Josephine postured herself with her hands on weapons, had said the word '_friends'_, cut through her like a knife. It cut through her, because the woman was right. She _didn't_ have any vote in the decisions Josephine made in her life. Lady Montilyet was free to walk out right now and leave forever, and Malora couldn't do a damn thing about it. Or could she?

"Fine," she said, stepping back again. "Then I'll get Leliana. She'll put a stop to this foolishness."

Josephine cocked her head in confusion at the qunari. Leliana? What on earth did Leliana have to do with any of this? "What makes you think she has any vote in what I do, either? She may be practically a sister to me, but that doesn't mean I obey her."

"She's not…?" Malora shook her head. This was all giving her a headache. Or maybe it was the ale. Maybe it was full of fusel alcohols. No, it was definitely Josephine. "Fine. If you won't listen to me as a friend, and you won't listen to Leliana, then I will order you as Inquisitor to disband your troupe and remain here."

Josephine laughed and shook her head. "Inquisitor, I am here by _choice_. No one conscripted me into the Inquisition, and I may leave whenever I wish."

"Then I _will_ conscript you into the Inquisition. I have that right." Malora balled her fists so tightly her nails ripped into the skin. She could feel the magic of the mark circulating through her blood, closing a circuit where she pierced the skin. Josephine couldn't leave. She just couldn't. This was the one thing in her life that was stable, that she could count on. She could count on Josephine Montilyet being here, working quietly behind the scenes, taking care of their political requirements. While she was out in the world doing the grunt work, the one who held her heart was here, taking care of the things she couldn't. That was the only truth she needed, even if the beautiful human woman was just out of her reach.

"If you do that," Josephine started slowly, her eyes never leaving Malora's, "I will hate you forever."

A sound escaped from the qunari's throat at the word, and every muscle in her body tensed. She looked pleadingly at the ambassador, out of time, and out of options.

"Josephine, why are you doing this?"

The mournful look in Malora's eyes gave Josephine pause, and she got lost in the depth, the tenderness, the hurt. Was this all a huge mistake? Was that true affection in the qunari's eyes? She took a step forward, the expression of deep pain that crossed the gentle giant's face as she said the word 'hate' burning a scar into her heart. She wanted to reach out and touch that cheek, touch that damaged arm, touch that broken heart, but she was still so afraid. The Inquisitor was so complex, so rock solid when it came to decisions about war, but so unsure and vulnerable when they were alone. Her hand started to rise again, like it had so many weeks ago when she'd been ready to lie down for Malora, but it stopped yet again as the silence was broken.

"Ok." The word came softly, from the depths of a broken heart. "If this is what you really want, I will have Leliana find another ambassador. I accept your resignation. You can continue to lead your troupe and you'll never have to see or deal with me again. I'm sorry that I interfered in your life. Good luck, Josephine."

"Interfered in my life?" Josephine looked pleadingly at Malora, silently begging her to rethink her response. All she had to do was say it. Just say it. Or not say it. Just reach out, just reach out and let her know _why_ she had to stay. It wouldn't take much, at this point. Josephine would have accepted anything. A word. A whisper. A joke. A slap. Well maybe not a slap. A few more moments passed as they looked at one another, and then a throat cleared in the background, breaking the spell. Josephine's hand dropped a second time to her side, and she shook her head.

"I, I have to go. Thank you, Inquisitor." She stepped back again, raising her hands in defeat. Sera joined her, sticking her tongue out at Adaar and ushering Josephine out the door.

"Josephine," Malora whispered as the group of rogues exited the building. "Don't go…"

"Wrong response, boss." The deep voice came from somewhere behind her, and a hand clasped her shoulder.

Adaar rubbed her head just where her horn tapered into the front of her skull and sighed. "What do you mean?"

The male qunari gestured to the door, which had just slammed shut behind Josephine and her little group of bards. "The correct response was to take her in your arms and beg her not to run off with that troupe because you can't live without her. The correct response was to actually tell her how you feel instead of pulling rank like a child. I should have had a talk with you a lot sooner. Damn, you are making us look bad."

"I don't need this right now," she replied.

"You do. You'd better go after her. You saw that look in her eyes. She _wanted_ that response. I don't know why you have it in your head that she couldn't possibly feel the same way about you when she's practically screaming it from the battlements, but you'd better get that sorted and fast before she gets hurt. I mean, she's already hurt, but I mean hurt," he gestured toward the great unknown, "out _there_."

"I know, Bull, I know. Do you know where she is headed?"

"Last I heard they were talking about heading out to the Storm Coast. Sera's got something going on out there. I don't know what it is, but it's likely just a party. Some of them want to see the water. I don't think the little piss ant would deliberately put Josephine in any real danger, but who knows."

"Great. We haven't closed all the rifts out there yet and last time we were there, a dragon was having a lover's quarrel with an ogre. This couldn't be worse."

"Oh it could."

"How?"

"She could have just accepted your idiotic declaration of 'friendship' and walked away. Really, what were you thinking?"

"My… what?"

"Your handling of this has been absolutely wrong from beginning to end. Somehow she got the idea that you don't see her as anything more than an everyday friend. And so she decided to do all of this just to get your attention. And you are somehow _still_ fucking it all up. Anyway, go. You don't want them to get too far ahead."

"Do you want to come with me? I could use you if we come across that dragon again."

"Nah. I've been helping Leliana with some of the political things here since Josephine has bailed. I'm not as good at it, but I have a lot of contacts and a fairly large network so we're getting by. I'm just keeping the seat warm for her. Just do me a favor, boss."

"Anything."

"Save the dragon for me."

"You got it."

* * *

**_Skyhold, evening, keep doorway_**

Varric stood in the doorway of the keep, looking out across the courtyard. It was the same as he'd remembered it, but there weren't as many people outside training as there normally were. Cullen hadn't been kidding. The Inquisitor's absence had a noticeable effect on the morale of the Inquisition. Of course they all knew how important she was to the movement, but looking out at the sparsely populated training grounds really drove it home. Malora Adaar was more than just a figurehead. She was truly their inspiration. They would have to get a handle on all of this and soon.

His eyes followed the Seeker to her usual corner, where she sat down and took out a book. The cover wasn't one of his, and he was curious what she was reading these days. He grinned to himself and made his way across the courtyard to sit next to her, ignoring her grunt of protest. He knew she needed someone to talk to and he was probably the only one qualified… and the only one with a clue.

"What's that?" he asked, nodding toward the book she was turning over in her hands.

"It's a book," she replied.

"Well, I know that, considering I've written one or two of them. Who is it by?" He leaned over to get a better look at the title, but it was worn away.

"Someone named J. Revisited," she answered as she opened the front cover.

He nodded and leaned over. "Yea, I have heard of this author. In fact," he said, tapping the engraved name thoughtfully, "I believe that the J stands for Josie. Ironic. Huh?"

"Quite."

He leaned back again, giving her space. "So what's it about?"

Cassandra opened to the first page and ran her fingers down the words. "This is one of a vast series of books. It is about a demigod who falls in love with a mortal woman. The mortal's soul belongs to her goddess mother, and she goes to war to claim ownership over it. She hides the soul on different worlds and in different time periods as she fights the war."

"Does she win?"

"I don't know," she said, slight irritation in her voice. "She is another author who leaves works half finished."

"Hey, I finished that one, just for _you,_ I might add."

"Yes, you did," she replied looking at the book again. "They get to spend so little time together because the demigod has to constantly be aware of where her mother is. Often the mortal has no memory of her lover. She goes through her lifetimes on different worlds building her machines and helping in small ways, never knowing love, and never knowing _why_, until Athera has to move her again. She reinstates the mortal's memories briefly, they spend a few moments together, and then her soul is whisked off to another world. I enjoy reading about them and about the mortal's adventures but…"

"But you want to know if it ultimately works out between them. I think I can venture a guess what this is really all about, but can I ask what brought all of it on? I mean, I know I made some comments but I didn't think that you would actually take me seriously. I thought this would drag out a _lot_ longer, especially since you both can hide conveniently behind this shit with Adaar."

Cassandra drew a breath to protest, but she glanced at Varric and changed her mind. There was genuine concern in his eyes, and it wasn't like he would believe any denial she made anyway. Besides, it might be nice to have someone to talk to. Adaar was too busy with her own personal hell, and she couldn't very well go talk to Leliana about… Leliana… Perhaps Varric would understand.

"I... was going to... But when we arrived at camp, Scout Ritts was reading this book and I asked her about it. You know it is so rare to find anyone else who is interested in literature. She told me about it and I was... intrigued. The story itself is good. I thought I would skip over the... well you know... but then... I didn't. And then I thought about Leliana. And then a letter came and it was just so easy to make an offhand remark. And then... Suddenly it became something that could actually happen. Suddenly it became something I was… actually… thinking about _making_ happen… Up until now I'd never thought…" She took a breath and closed the cover again. "It really is a very good story."

"Yea but is her smut as good as mine?"

Cassandra ran her fingertips over the leather-bound cover and smiled. "Better."

"Better because she is a better writer, or better because you can see yourself in those situations with Leliana?"

"I don't know..."

"It's ok. You don't have to answer that one. So I take it you and Leliana have… talked about this?"

"After a fashion. While we were out in the field she and I sent letters back and forth. A lot of letters." She glanced at her pack, where the pieces of parchment were lovingly stowed away. "And now I am supposed to go see her but I am afraid."

Varric nodded and leaned back on his hands. "Courage is easy to find when you are standing behind the Herald of Andraste's mighty hammer with a company of your friends. It's a lot harder to find when it's just you and someone that makes you decidedly nervous."

"Yes, I agree. I feel like a coward. I feel like perhaps I have led her on and this was all just a huge mistake. I mean what if I go to her and find out that this really isn't for me, that I've just wasted valuable time?"

Varric looked at her for a few moments, studying her face. She really was an exceptionally beautiful woman, and if the circumstances had been different when they met, he might have asked to share some of her time. She was tough and unrelenting, unshakable in her beliefs, but inside there was a warm and tender soul who needed someone to lean on.

"I don't think that's what you are really worried about, Seeker."

"Then what am I really worried about?"

He took a breath before continuing. After he said this, there would be no going back, and she might very well run him through. He'd seen men kill to silence even the idea that they were not… that they were… well. He shook his head and sighed. Either he was her friend or he wasn't, and a friend would tell her this.

"Cassandra," he said, using her name to convey the seriousness of his next statement, "You aren't afraid that you'll find that it isn't for you. You are afraid that you will find it actually _is_, and that means that everything you ever thought to be true about yourself, might actually be false. I know how scary that can be, but I also know that we need to take the small victories where we can get them. No one knows the future, but you are right in that the worst that can happen is you decide there's nothing there and you apologize to Leliana, remain friends and everybody moves on. But the best that can happen is you decide there _is _something there_. _If that's the case, the rewards are immeasurable, Cassandra, and I can't think of a single person in this entire camp more deserving of affection than you."

The warrior looked up at the sky and shut her eyes tightly. Leave it to Varric to go straight for the gut. "Why does it seem so easy in the stories?"

He snorted. "Because it's all a _fantasy, _Seeker. It's all a romantic fantasy in our heads about how something might go and how it might defy all odds and end in true love and happiness. That," he tapped the book for emphasis, "is a fantasy in some insane storyteller's mind. I'll bet I know why she hasn't finished it yet."

"Why?"

He looked at her and smiled. "Because even she doesn't know how it ends. Seeker, you can't wait your entire life for a storybook romance, because it might not happen. Take what you can, when you can. Make it into your _own_ storybook romance."

"Maker, I don't even know why I am telling you this," she said, looking back down at the book again.

"You are telling me this because you know I understand, and you know that I'll keep it between us. You may not believe it Seeker, but I'm in your corner on this one. If you can find a little bit of light in this darkness, then we will all be better off. Plus the fantasy material alone is…"

"Varric…" she warned.

"Ok, ok, that crossed the line a bit, but I still think that you deserve happiness. And why can't it be with Leliana? It's worth exploring, regardless. Don't worry about her heart, Seeker. She's a big girl and she knows the risks. She must think you are worth the potential pain, and that says something about her. Don't you think it's worth it to find out if you could feel the same way back?"

Cassandra turned the book over in her hands again, and then stowed it away in her pack. "Varric, I cannot believe I am saying this for the second time today, but you are right. This may be the hardest thing I have ever had to face, but I will go see her."

"Good for you, Seeker. Take some time for yourself, and do yourself a favor: change into something that doesn't have sharp edges."

Cassandra stood and gathered her things, nodding at him. She would return to the barracks and stow away her plate armor, and then go and find Leliana.

"Varric...?"

"Yes, Seeker?"

She took a deep breath and forced out the words that up until now, she'd never expected to say to him.

"Thank you."


	6. Chapter 6

**_Skyhold, the Rookery, late evening_**

Leliana walked slowly around the tower, circling the center and glancing down every now and again at the mages working below. She had sent everyone to the lower levels so she could have some time to think and reflect on the day's events, and so that she might know a moment's peace. Well, that wasn't _precisely_ true. She sent everyone away in case Cassandra _did_ drop by, unlikely as it seemed. Offhand remarks and passing glances were one thing, but would the Seeker actually come? She shook her head, putting a hand in the pocket where she hid Cassandra's letters, now well-worn with how many times she'd opened and read them.

Images kept running through her mind of her last failed romance, though time had blurred them and the pain had faded. She had made herself too unavailable, too unattainable, though every fiber of her being had wanted to reach out and comfort Elissa Cousland. In the end, her aloofness and unwillingness to compromise her beliefs had been undoing. She'd made it too hard for the warden to get close to her, and she'd suffered immensely for it in the end.

She vowed not to do that with Cassandra, though she recognized with some amusement that this association represented a much bigger risk. With Elissa, who pursued her actively, there was some degree of certainty. Cassandra was far more… unpredictable. The entire situation was laughable, actually. She threw herself into a chair, leaning back into the shadows. Shadows were her lover these days. They were easy to slip into, and they hid her from the pain of the world. She could return to reality as she pleased, but often it was better to stay hidden away and watch things from afar.

So why hadn't she done just that? Watching Cassandra from afar was clearly the best choice. Better for her sanity; better for her heart. Why was she even considering this? Up until those strange remarks in the letters, she'd never seriously given thought to a romantic relationship with the warrior. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, pulling one foot up onto the chair and resting an arm over it. Up until now, the idea barely registered. Now, it was all she could think about.

She listened to the soft hum of the voices below her and tried to pick out individual conversations. Talk of potions here, denouncement of blood magic there, speculation on the purpose of an ancient rune, complaints about the dust, weather. Nonsense. At least the mages were making themselves moderately useful and keeping busy. It seemed that Adaar had made a good choice in allying with them. For her part, Leliana didn't care one way or another anymore. Who they allied with seemed trivial; all that mattered was that they defeated Corypheus once and for all. All that mattered was that Adaar found herself again and resumed her place as leader.

_So why am I not out there working on making that happen? Why am I sitting here in the dark, with a foolish hope that a pretty girl might pay me a visit?_

Leliana sighed and let her foot drop back to the floor. She leaned over the table and rested her head in her hands. This _was_ silly, and she was wasting valuable time, time that could be better spent talking with Josephine and Adaar. Yet she did not move. Her feet felt heavy, and her heartbeat slowed as she reached for the letters once again. So many humorous comments, so many loaded questions. Did Cassandra not realize the effect her words might have? Did she not realize that it could lead, at least on Leliana's part, to a serious consideration of romance?

_I suppose the quill is indeed mightier than the sword…_

Leliana curled her fist around the pieces of parchment and willed herself to stop thinking about it. She looked out the window at the darkening sky and bit her lower lip. Enough time had surely passed. If Cassandra was coming, she would have been here by now. The meeting had ended hours ago and the Seeker had made it clear that they wouldn't approach Adaar until the next day. She loosened her grip on the letters and raised her hood up over her head. At least she had those. She would never speak of this to anyone and she would allow Cassandra her graceful exit, but those letters would belong to her forever. Leliana slowly stood and leaned against the wall, breathing in the cold night air, grateful for its refreshing breeze. It soothed her heart and calmed her nerves. Silence, except for the soft murmurs below, lulled her to a strange state just between the waking world and the mysterious fade; that dreamlike land that few understood. Time passed slowly, and her eyelids grew heavy. Perhaps it was time to leave. She took one more breath and touched the letters again, pushing the disappointment into a compartment in her heart, never to be revisited again.

"Leliana, are you here?"

The assassin melted into the shadows, activating her stealth. She turned toward the voice and her heart held a beat in time for just a moment, and then lurched back into action at a frantic pace. There, in the doorway, stood Cassandra, but barely the Cassandra she knew. She hardly recognized the Seeker out of her heavy plate mail armor. The warrior wasn't wearing her sword and shield, either. All she had on was a simple tunic and trousers, with the Inquisition crest emblazoned on the sleeve. Leliana hid there in the darkness, holding her breath, her mind overloading with questions. Why was Cassandra here? Did she want to follow through and pursue what had started as a few simple words? Did she have news of Adaar and was only here to share that? Was she here to say it was a mistake? Why was she out of her armor, if that was the case? Surely she could have ended their association without changing into casualwear, clothing that Leliana felt certain hadn't been used in years.

She watched as Cassandra looked around the room, and then looked down at her feet. Was that disappointment on her face, the same emotion that she had just actively locked away? The warrior turned to leave, and Leliana forced herself to be brave. She stepped away from the wall and called out, "Wait, Cassandra. I am here."

Cassandra turned around again and breathed a sigh of relief. "I thought you might have gone to talk with Josephine. That was my next stop."

Leliana leaned against the table and crossed her arms, keeping her hood low on her brow. She wasn't sure she was ready for that piercing gaze just yet. "I should have, yes. I fear it is a mistake to allow her and Adaar to roam the courtyard unsupervised. Skyhold is not so large that they can walk the length or breadth of it without running into one another."

Cassandra nodded and slowly walked into the room, taking up a position against a stack of boxes. It was closer to Leliana than she had been, but still far enough away that there was a comfortable distance between them, though she wasn't certain distance was what she truly wanted. "I know, and we will not be able to keep them from it much longer. I had planned to go to see Adaar tomorrow morning. Perhaps you can find Josephine then, as well. I believe we should revisit the idea of forcing a confrontation, if for no other reason than to determine whether we are replacing the ambassador or not."

Leliana nodded, though that was hardly the aspect of their correspondence she wanted to revisit. "If you think that is best…" She let the sentence trail off, unsure how to proceed.

"Leliana," Cassandra started, resting her hands behind her on the box. "About our letters…"

The assassin waved a hand dismissively. "It was good fun, but I do not expect anything to come of it. I understand completely if you wish to forget."

"That is not what I meant, Leliana." The warrior shook her head and stared at their Spymaster, the woman she had known for years. That ridiculous hood was covering her face again, and Cassandra found that it annoyed her beyond reason. She wanted to see Leliana's _eyes_, and up until now, she never realized that, that was why the assassin's preferred style of cloak bothered her so. "Will you please take down the hood?"

Leliana took a breath and slowly raised her hands to her face. She slipped the cowl over her head and looked straight at Cassandra, her ribcage barely able to contain the beating of her heart.

The warrior nodded in satisfaction. "Thank you. I don't know what the future holds, but a wise friend told me to take the small victories where I can. I don't want to pretend those letters never happened, and I don't want to forget. I'm scared and nervous, but I came here because I have to _know_, Leliana. Do you understand?"

Leliana nodded, caught in the warrior's gaze. Every nerve was alive and her pulse was racing. "I don't want to pretend they didn't happen, either. I keep them with me."

"I keep yours as well." Cassandra stood up straight, eyes never leaving the assassin's. She knew what needed to happen next, but wasn't sure precisely how to ask for it. Fortunately, it seemed she didn't have to articulate the request. Leliana pushed away from the table and approached her slowly, every step agonizingly deliberate, every movement of her body painfully resolute. This was actually happening. All her thoughts and ideas and dreams, oh the dreams she'd had, all of them could truly manifest, all in this moment. They were alone, and the night was young. The air was cool and the breeze from the open windows caressed her skin, the slight chill inviting the warm touch of a lover, but not just any lover, the touch of _Leliana_. The assassin stopped just outside her personal space, and waited. What was she waiting for?

_Permission…_

Cassandra nodded slowly, eyes still locked on the assassin's, every nerve on fire. Her heartbeat quickened, and strange flames danced through her veins as she watched the rogue close the distance.

Leliana gently pressed their lips together, giving Cassandra ample opportunity to regain control and push her away. She lifted a hand to the warrior's face, running a thumb over her lower lip and gently pulling it down. She increased the pressure and tried to keep her thundering heart under control, keep her other hand from reaching out in passion. Cassandra was pushing back, but it was clear she was still nervous and unsure. After a moment, Leliana pulled away and glanced down at the Seeker's lips, desperate to touch them again, but determined to handle this the right way. She replaced her thumb with her two forefingers, running them across the soft flesh, arousal igniting and making itself painfully known. She wanted this, but she wanted Cassandra to want it as well. Otherwise, it would have to end here, with one experience, one moment frozen in time, one brave memory.

"Is it okay?" she whispered, raising her eyes back to Cassandra's.

The warrior tried to sort out what was happening to her, hundreds of confusing emotions bombarding her in a matter of seconds.

"Different…" she said, and it was the truth. She'd never felt anything quite like it, soft and tender, gentle, yet an ocean's force of passion just behind it. She knew Leliana was holding back for the sake of her comfort, and it was strangely arousing to know the woman was so concerned.

"Nice…" she whispered and then shook her head slightly. That didn't convey exactly what she meant and it was clear that Leliana was interpreting it as a rejection. The assassin's face had gone pale and her hand had dropped back to her side. Cassandra couldn't find the _word_ she needed to describe what she felt. No book had prepared her for the sheer _feeling_ that shot through her when Leliana approached, no story had prepared her for the lightning strike that boiled her blood and burned her skin when Leliana kissed her. She ran her tongue over the spot where the assassin's fingertips had been, the strange tingle persisting. How could she explain it? How could she _express_ it? She looked into Leliana's eyes and whispered the only thing she could think of, the only question that might help ease the painful throb that was pulsing through her body.

"More?"

Leliana released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and nodded, pulling the warrior against her again. She would give more. She would give all.

And she would teach Cassandra everything.

* * *

**_Skyhold, the Rookery, a few moments later_**

The booming voice resounded through the lofty tower, almost a mournful cry. It echoed and bounced from wall to ceiling, strong enough to shatter mountains, but pained enough to shatter hearts.

"Cassandra! Cassandra, damn it, where are you?" Inquisitor Malora Adaar rushed into the room, looking for her second in command, practically tripping over her own feet. "There you are." The qunari caught her breath and looked around. "What are you doing up here all by yourself?"

Cassandra's eyes flew open as the delightful pressure disappeared, Leliana shrouding herself and withdrawing somewhere into the night. Her thundering heart ached and she fought to get it back under control. Why had Leliana hidden herself? The Inquisitor might have had a humorous comment to make, but she wouldn't seriously interfere in her soldiers' private lives. Cassandra shook her head to clear it and turned toward the intruder, pushing the hurt into a compartment to be dealt with later.

"I was just looking for Leliana." It was the truth, and Adaar didn't need to know she'd found her. If the assassin wasn't comfortable with the Inquisitor knowing about their budding romance, she would respect that.

The qunari looked around the room and then shook her head. "I don't know where she is, but it's going to have to wait. We need to get on the road right now."

"What?" Cassandra crossed her arms, her lips still on fire where Leliana had touched her. She very much wanted to continue down that path and see where the night might lead. Going back on the road so soon wasn't in the plan.

"We have to go. Josephine has started some bard troupe with Sera of all people, and she's on her way out to the Storm Coast as we speak. We have to catch up to them and stop her before something happens."

Cassandra looked at the qunari in shock. She knew that Josie had been playing at being a rogue, but surely it hadn't gone _this_ far. Why would Josephine leave the keep, when this was all clearly just a stunt to get the Inquisitor's attention?

"What brought all of this on?" she asked.

"I don't fucking know," Adaar replied, kicking the nearby boxes. "I don't understand why our Spymaster didn't keep a tighter leash on her. How could she have let this happen?"

Cassandra shook her head in confusion. "Why would she keep a leash on Josephine?"

"Well, Leliana is in love with her for one. I can't believe she let Josephine carry on like this, and now she's left the safety of the fortress walls."

"I," Cassandra started as she felt a light squeeze at her hip, "really don't think that's the case." She bit the inside of her cheek and prayed that nothing showed on her face. The thought that Leliana was behind her sent blood rushing to her center, and she cursed Adaar again for interrupting. In the next moment, she was gently nudged forward and the hand was gone. Leliana was telling her to go. "But you are right; we must bring Josephine back to the keep. I will get our equipment."

"Good. I will get Vivienne and Varric. I cannot believe that this is happening to me. Come on."

Cassandra followed her friend, but gave one last longing look around the room. She couldn't see Leliana, but the bard was there somewhere, hiding in the shadows, manipulating the light. She paused for a moment, half tempted to call out despite Leliana's clear preference for secrecy. The air shimmered around her and she felt something getting pressed into her hand. She looked down at the object and saw that it was a quill. She smiled and nodded. "Yes," she whispered, and left the rookery.

Leliana dismissed her stealth and fell into a nearby chair, hand again on her small packet of parchment. A smile threatened the corner of her mouth, and she stared beyond the door for a long time, replaying her little slice of impractical heaven over and over again in her head.

* * *

_A\N - The letters need to be moved. A content update is in the works, I've overhauled and fixed earlier chapters (really, no one could point out in the very first paragraph I spelled Josie's name wrong? You are all too kind), and the new stuff should be up in a few days. I needed to pull the letters and overhaul them as well, however. It should all be done soon. Please look forward to it. _


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N – Thank you again for the lovely comments. This update was rough and has frankly, taken much longer than it should have. Sera is hard to voice, and even after a week of study on her character I still don't think I have it quite right. But if I look at this one more time I do believe my eyes may literally start bleeding. I did some overhaul on the earlier chapters as well, and the most recent batch of 'letters' have been moved and are getting a rewrite. They will work better later on. Please look forward to it._

* * *

**_En route to the Storm Coast_**

"Come_ on,_ Josie, let's just fast travel. Adaar makes us walk _everywhere._ She doesn't even let us use mounts. Arse rubbish." Sera tugged on Josephine's sleeve pleadingly, resolved to be as annoying as possible until the older woman relented.

Josephine glanced at the elf, then back at Skyhold. It wasn't a terrible idea. It would put some distance between her and Malora, though she felt certain she'd never see the qunari again anyway. What was happening to her? Why was she even still here? The Inquisitor's reaction hadn't been quite what she was hoping for and suddenly this trip seemed pointless. She looked down at the leather gear she had stolen from Leliana and shook her head. Wasn't this was the warrior wanted? Didn't she want someone who could fight by her side out in the field? She had learned how and was no longer a burden on the company; no longer the only one of the advisors with no actual combat training. Now she could truly be a companion for the Herald of Andraste. She thought for certain there had been something in the demon's eyes but…

What did Malora Adaar want?

"Fine," she replied, shaking the elf from her shoulder. "Let's go." She followed Sera and the other rogues into the cart and took a seat near the rear, so she could see outside.

"Ohhhhh, better. You know she says that this walking shit builds character? _What_ character? Just gets sand in the underpants." Sera laid down on the bench opposite Josie and the rest of the group and stuck her feet up the wall. "Nice to stop for once."

"I am sure it is," Josephine replied, looking curiously at the rogue elf. "What was it like on the road with the Inquisitor?"

"Pfft, what was it _like?_ Wasn't like anything, not anything worth liking, anyway. All tits and no brains, that one. Rush right in, stand in the middle, spin round a bit. Nice arse, though… _Love_ to watch it, but half the time we're picking her up off the ground. Cassandra pitches _fits _afterward_._ Always fun, that." Sera absently twirled an arrow and chuckled. "You didn't miss much, Josie."

Josephine pulled her legs up onto the bench with her and hugged them. Sera's casual dismissal of the danger was disturbing. "Do you know what happened to her arm?"

"Right, cause I just have a line straight up to the top. She left me behind, remember? Haven't talked to her in ages, probably. She came round a couple times at first to see if I was all right, check on Jenny stuff, make sure I'm not going to nick her breeches, but real stuff? Not me. Couldn't be me." Sera sat up, an uncharacteristically cunning expression shadowing her features. "But you? Shoulda stayed inside, Josie. She's hot for it all over you know, but can't say."

Josephine rolled her eyes. "What does that even mean?"

"Doesn't have to mean anything. I mean, there's you, and there's _her_, and all of _this_, and well, it's all just shit anyway." Sera shrugged and lay back down, putting her feet up again. "You're both _stupid_. You just got a little bit less stupid when you put on the leather. Not bad, by the way." Sera grinned appreciatively at the human woman.

"You aren't making any sense." Josephine rested her chin between her knees and sighed. Conversations with Sera were usually like this, leaving her with far more questions than answers. "I don't understand at all what you are saying."

Sera heaved an exasperated sigh and started twirling her arrow again. "I take it back. You're still stupid. Here's why. There's Adaar, all _height-y_ and scary, right? Big horned demon, towers over _everyone_. Everyone's freaked out, and can't shut up about it, so everywhere, it's comments. Blah blah oxman this, blah blah Qun that, blah blah what the fuck_, shut it!_ I can't think!" Sera covered her ears with her hands and closed her eyes tightly as if to drown out the noise. After a few moments she cautiously opened one eye, and then relaxed again. "Right. So it's all _there,_ like, _all the time_ and it's right in her face. Heh, on her face," Sera giggled for a moment, amused.

"Sera? You still aren't making any sense."

"Oh come on, that was _funny_. Right, well it's there just all the time. _Everyone_ has something to say about the qunari Herald. And you? You are the _worst _of them. Antivan _nobility_, right? Or close enough, anyway. Too close for her to touch. She's closer to me, but shite, she don't _want_ me, she wants _you_, and can't _have_ you. You see? There's nothing she can do. She can cut off her horns, sure. Still, Phwoar… that _height_. No mistaking _that._" Sera gestured to the ceiling appreciatively, imagining the formidable warrior breaking through the flimsy canvas. "I mean, humans make it all the time with elves, sure. Most everyone turns a blind eye to it, too, because we're so similar. Snip our ears, eat a few cakes, no one knows the difference, right? And the hate makes it _soooo_ good. But a human noble and a _qunari_? There's just no getting away with that. You're too high up for her. Sure you came down here for a bit and that's all great, but it's still in her _head_." Sera pointed to her own head for emphasis.

"I," Josephine started, thinking carefully about what Sera had said. Most of it was still nonsense, but the meaning couldn't be mistaken. Did Malora seriously think that her title and position in Orlais politics put her out of reach, that their different races would even be a factor? Had she ever said such a thing? Josephine racked her brain, going over every conversation she and the qunari had ever had. Her personal interactions with others were always crafted so carefully, but could she have made a mistake? Could Malora Adaar truly believe that these things were an obstacle? Could she have actually contemplated cutting off those beautifully majestic horns? The thought caused an icy cold sliver of pain to dance across her heart. Never would she have asked such a thing of Malora… "I never thought of that. The idea honestly never even crossed my mind."

"And _that's_ why I haven't put an arrow in your face, big hat. That and she'd kill me. I'd have to go into hiding. Did that once. Dirty floors. The floors are better here."

Josephine hugged her knees more tightly. So what if she was a noble? It wasn't like Malora was rabble, anyway. She was the _Inquisitor_, the leader of the only military force capable of saving the entire world. How could the Herald of Andraste possibly think that a mere human noble ranked her? What did it even matter? She'd already largely thrown it all away. The game was entertaining and she played it well, but she knew the difference between it, and what was actually important. She was nearly thirty years old and couldn't play the game forever. It was time she found a companion to share her days and nights with. Well, that wasn't precisely accurate. She didn't just want a 'companion' to waste time with. What she wanted was Malora Adaar.

"But, she's the Herald," Josephine said in a small voice, unsure how to really respond.

"Pffft, no she isn't, not in _her_ head, at least. She's a qunari merc, a hot one, but still a merc. This shit still hasn't like, registered or something. And back there?" Sera thumbed behind her toward the tavern. "Back there's she's staring at you, _screaming_ it in her head, but she can't reach out, yeah? Playing dress up is fun, but you're still too high up. She doesn't _see_ it, she sees you like you used to be." Sera closed her eyes and took a breath. It really was too bad the Inquisitor was so wrapped up in Josie. They could have had a lot of fun together.

"Screaming what?" Josephine put her feet back on the ground and leaned forward in earnest, gripping the sides of the bench. Sera was just on the tip of something that made sense, and she desperately needed some clarity right now.

Sera smiled and crossed one leg over the other, fiddling with the tip of her arrow. "Josie, if you need _me_ to tell you that, then you deserve to sit in it and stew, right?" She let out an exaggerated yawn and laid the arrow across her chest. "Wake me when we get there, luv."

Josephine sighed in exasperation and sat back again. Of course Sera would turn it off the second she was on the verge of on something important. She was frustrating like that, but the girl had become a good friend and she'd needed one after 'that night'.

After Leliana had finally left her office, she sat for a while on her own thinking, thinking and staring at the spot where Malora Adaar would sit and read. The empty space had cried out to her, almost in anguish, and for many hours she just gazed into the beyond, pretending that everything was normal and nothing had changed. Why hadn't she struck up more conversation on her own? She certainly had ample opportunity. Why had she waited until Malora approached her, which she now realized, was all too seldom? When Malora _had_ approached her, why hadn't she been more receptive to what was now obviously flirting?

Josephine closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. She thought back over every conversation they'd ever had. Shortly after coming to Skyhold, Malora had asked if she wanted to walk the castle. At the time, she was so busy with organizing things that it didn't really register, but now?

_She didn't want a tour. She wanted to spend time with me and I blew her off. I just completely blew her off and didn't think a thing of it. It must have wounded her deeply._

Josephine furrowed her brow and thought some more about the days following that one. In fact, after that conversation, the Inquisitor stopped reaching out to her entirely, speaking only when there was something to report or word reached her about the unfortunate situation with the Du Paraquettes. The qunari still remarked on her loveliness on occasion and still spent time in that corner reading, but it felt more… distant, more _polite_, than it had before.

_This is all my fault. I drove her to this. Perhaps Leliana was right after all. I am far too innocent in matters of love._

"Josie," Maryden the bard poked her friend in the arm. "Stop brooding. It'll get better. We all get rejected once or twice in our lives." She glared at Sera pointedly.

"Are you still on about that? Just shut it, Mare." Sera stretched her muscles like a cat, opening one eye to check its effect on the tavern minstrel.

"You shut it," Maryden replied, throwing a wadded up piece of parchment at Sera.

"You're a right tit, you know that?" Sera threw the paper back, sitting up and looking around for something else to add.

"Oh for the love of, please stop it both of you." Josephine plucked the parchment out of midair and stowed it in a pocket. "We're nearly there and this is supposed to be _my_ moment of misery, remember?"

"Yeah, it's _her_ moment, Mare, so knock it off."

"Me? _You're_ the one who needs to…"

"SHUT IT." Josephine stood up in the cart, hands balled tightly into fists. Frustration and hurt was getting the better of her and the bickering was making it worse.

"Whoa Josie," Sera said, looking up at the irate human. "Now _that_ was hot. I didn't think you had it in you. You do that around Adaar, and I bet she grabs your arse and pulls you into the nearest tent."

Josephine sat back down and looked at the floor sadly, relaxing her fists and forcing herself to calm down. There was such anger and pain inside her and it was reaching the boiling point, poised to explode and shatter what little sanity she had left. "I may never see her again."

Sera let out a long bellowing laugh. "Ya think? I'd make a wager that you do, big hat. No way she's gonna let you roam the world with _me_ unsupervised." Sera waggled her eyebrows suggestively, earning her a sigh from her human friend. "But seriously, ten to one she's gathering Old Frigid and Mount Denial right now. Let's see, they'll probably bring Varric since I'm with you, but the point is, she's coming. Don't worry, Josie, she'll definitely be coming." Sera fell to the floor in another fit of giggles, and Josephine just shook her head.

_I hope so, Sera. If she doesn't follow, I don't know what I'll do next._

* * *

**_Skyhold, Undercroft, Evening_**

"Seeker, don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for all the field time, but why are we leaving in the middle of the night?" Varric stretched and double checked his harness, ensuring that Bianca was secured to his back.

Cassandra shook her head and pulled her chestpiece over it. "Josephine has left the fortress. We are going after her." She fastened the clasps in irritation, and then slammed her sword into its scabbard.

Varric raised an eyebrow at the display. "I take it this is interrupting something?"

"Yes," Cassandra replied flatly, pulling on a boot. "She could not have had worse timing if she had actively tried."

The rogue nodded and pulled on his own boots, lacing up the leather quickly. "I'm glad it went well, Seeker. All this shit with Josie is going to blow over. I'll bet she throws herself into Adaar's arms the second we catch up to her. You'll be back here again in no time."

"I hope so," the warrior replied, securing her platemail to her legs. She picked up her shield and attached it to her back. "Let us go and catch up to the Inquisitor. I am sure she has already left the fortress."

"Of course she has," Varric said, adjusting his belt. He followed Cassandra out toward the courtyard and smiled quietly as the warrior glanced at the rookery door. It looked like Seeker Pentaghast had found her courage after all.

"There she is, with Vivienne." Cassandra pointed at the gates where the Inquisitor and mage were standing, talking to the sentries on duty. "It looks like she did not leave yet."

"She's probably getting information," Varric replied, struggling to keep up with the much taller human.

"Perhaps." She shifted the pack of equipment off her shoulder as they approached, laying it at her feet. "I have our gear, Adaar."

"Good. They have a head start and they took the last fast travel caravan. It will be another hour before the next one arrives. We're going to have to catch up to them on horses."

Cassandra and Varric looked at one another, eyes wide. Malora Adaar never let them fast travel _or_ use mounts. Varric mouthed an 'o shit' to the human warrior, and she nodded. This was serious.

"Very well. I will summon our mounts," Vivienne said, raising her staff. In a moment, four mighty steeds looking around in confusion were before them. Adaar swung herself onto the tallest one and pulled him around, pointing him toward Josephine's last known direction.

"We ride northeast, we ride fast." Inquisitor Adaar spurred her horse into action, pushing it to a gallop down the dusty path.

"Well, shit. We'd better keep up. Seeker?" Varric walked over to the smallest horse, but it was still just above his reach. Cassandra grabbed the back of his shirt and helped him climb up, then secured the supplies pack to her own horse.

"Let's move out." The warrior led the way after Adaar, bringing her own mount to a fast gallop behind the Inquisitor. Several minutes passed as they stampeded down the trail, and soon Cassandra began to worry that they were pushing too hard.

"Seeker, you should catch up to her and calm her down." Varric trailed along just behind Cassandra, gesturing forward to the qunari. "She's going to run the horses to exhaustion in under an hour at this pace."

The warrior nodded, grateful that she hadn't been the only one to notice, and spurred the horse faster, catching up to the qunari. "Inquisitor?" she shouted over the pounding hooves.

Adaar just grunted in reply and didn't look at her.

"Inquisitor, I know you are upset but we cannot maintain this pace. The animals will not be able to sustain it for much longer."

"Fine," Adaar slowed her horse to a trot and glared at Cassandra. "Happy?"

The other warrior nodded, looking behind her at the rest of the group. Varric gave her the thumbs up sign, and Vivienne just rolled her eyes. She looked back at Adaar and asked, "Inquisitor, are you ok?"

For many moments the qunari did not answer. She just stared straight down the road and gripped the reins of her horse tightly. Cassandra wished she could reach out and comfort her friend, but it was impossible at this speed. Perhaps if they had been able to take a fast travel caravan; but even then, what could she really offer that she hadn't already? Adaar might appreciate the effort, but in the end, the only thing, the only _person,_ who could quiet the stormy waters in her soul, was Josephine. Finally, Adaar replied quietly, her normally strong and resonating voice almost indiscernible over the noise of the horses.

"No."

Cassandra nodded. She'd expected as much, and though she wanted to respond somehow, she couldn't find the words that would make everything all right. But perhaps she didn't need to respond at all. Perhaps her presence was enough. If the Inquisitor wanted to say more, she would. The warrior turned her head forward, looking in the same direction as Adaar, and leaned back, letting the wind hit her face. It felt refreshing, and the night was clear so their path was well-lit. She was still disappointed that her time with Leliana had been cut short, but there would be other opportunities for her. For the Inquisitor, this might very well be the only chance to set things right with Josephine.

They traveled for nearly two hours before reaching the forward camp, and when they arrived, Cassandra saw to the horses while Vivienne and Varric secured their sleeping quarters. The place was alive with light and activity, and Inquisitor Adaar went directly to the Requisition Officer for a report.

"Nothing to report, Ser."

"Nothing to report? What is going on over there?" Adaar pointed to the far corner of the encampment, where a large crowd had gathered. There was the low hum of numerous conversations and laughter, and the faint sounds of music in the air, not to mention the scent of ale and roasting meat.

"Oh, that?" The officer looked over and shrugged. "There are some travelling minstrels out here drumming up morale. I didn't see the harm in it, so I let them play. They are flying Inquisition colors. The men seem to enjoy it well enough. I thought you had authorized them."

Adaar waved the soldier away and cut a path through the camp toward the crowd. Since she stood a full foot taller than even the tallest human soldiers she didn't need to push her way to the front, another painful reminder of who she was… _what_ she was. Instead, she took up a position far in the back and focused her vision on the absolute most enchanting sight she'd ever seen. Josephine was there with her bards, firelight flickering across her features, and her mouth was open in song. The tune was melancholy; something about love lost and wandering, and for a singular moment in time, Malora Adaar felt certain she had experienced a small sliver of what heaven must surely be like.

_I had no idea she could sing… but of course her voice would be lovely. Everything about her is lovely._

The qunari stood there while a lifetime passed, just staring at the ambassador, wishing she had courage enough to state her feelings plainly, wishing so many other factors were different or not present. Her race complicated things. Her mercenary background complicated things. This nonsense about being some human goddess's Herald complicated things. The Inquisition complicated things. Leliana complicated things. And… she closed her eyes and clenched a fist… Sera complicated things. The elf was practically hanging from Josephine, much closer than she needed to be. Could Sera have thrown her figurative hat in the ring now? The human wasn't pushing her away; indeed, her face was alight with laughter and merriment as she looked at the rogue elf. Perhaps this truly _was_ what Josephine wanted. Perhaps she wanted to travel the world with Sera and their merry little band, and all the thoughts Malora Adaar had of them actually being together really was just a foolish fantasy in a confused Tal-Vashoth's mind.

She opened her eyes again as the music stopped, expecting that the group was forming up for another song, expecting to see Sera draped over _her_ Josephine once more, but to her surprise, the imp was standing behind the human and pointing across her shoulder, whispering something in her ear. Malora froze as her eyes locked with Josephine's, and time stood still around her. The gaze was unwavering, but also unreadable. What was going through the ambassador's mind? Was she angry? Was she relieved? Was she irritated? Inquisitor Malora Adaar found herself rooted to the spot, captured by that expressionless regard, locked in its probing contemplation. She again cursed her race, her horns, her height, her inability to melt into the crowd and just watch Josephine from afar. If she wasn't a qunari, practically the _only_ one living among humans, the beautiful ambassador might not have ever known she was there.

_So now what? Now what am I going to do? She will know I came out here after her. There isn't any other pressing business on the Storm Coast. And why **did** I come here? What can possibly come of this?_

Adaar opened and closed her fists several times, trying to work it all out in her head, trying to formulate some sort of plan. Josephine was still looking at her with that unreadable expression and Sera was pushing her from behind. What would she do if Josephine called out to her? What would she say? Would the ambassador make a scene? Would she call attention to the fact that the Herald of Andraste had again dropped everything, had again put the entire Inquisition on hold, just to chase after ghosts and dreams; just to interfere in one human's life?

Malora shifted her weight between her feet, taking a deep breath. Of course Josephine would do none of those things. She was too gracious, too classy. Whatever was going on between them would be kept there, though she regretfully realized that there wasn't much of _anything_ going on between them, at all. Maker, were they even friends now? Acquaintances? Likely neither, and now they did not even have a working relationship anymore. Her foolish mouth had seen to that. Perhaps the ambassador wouldn't have resigned. Perhaps she would have just taken some time off, traveled for a while and gotten it out of her system, and then returned to her post where she belonged. Perhaps…

_Andraste, wherever you are, whoever you are, if you are listening, please give me strength…_

The lovely human woman stood, never dropping her eyes or glancing away, and moved through the crowd slowly. Malora backed away to a secluded corner of the camp and fidgeted with the daggers she kept at her waist nervously as she waited. Of course Josephine was coming to speak to her privately. There was no way she had just picked that precise moment to retrieve a mug of ale from the refreshment table that had been set up. She was going to address this after all, but she would not call attention to the presence of the Inquisition's leader. Again, the qunari wondered at Josephine's grace and beauty. She was truly a vision, within and without; the epitome of sophistication, kindness, and discretion. The music started again somewhere; likely the rest of the bards continuing with the show. Malora was grateful for it. The sounds recaptured the interest of the crowd, and she and Josephine would be afforded at least a little privacy.

"Inquisitor." Josephine stopped in front of the qunari, tilting her head upward slightly to maintain eye contact. Somehow, she just didn't want to let it go. Malora Adaar's eyes were icy and unreadable, but that glint was there again, that little shard of fear, that faint speck of… of _something_… that she just couldn't name.

"Ambassador," Malora started before mentally kicking herself. Josephine had resigned that title not more than a few hours ago. She quickly waved a hand to forestall any reply and corrected herself, "I apologize, Lady Montilyet."

The human cocked her head to the side, trying to hold onto that…"There is no need for an apology. This is a transition that may take some time." No, it was gone again, replaced by the loneliness that usually could be seen behind those tempestuous eyes. How seldom she was afforded the opportunity to gaze into them! She found herself lost, tendrils of desire plucking at her abdomen and strumming a melody only she could hear. The Inquisitor was truly a sight to behold; that hardened beauty like the peak of a snowcapped mountain, but a sadness to rival even the most forlorn swampland.

Malora shuffled her feet and looked down at the ground, finally breaking away from that penetrating gaze. "You… you have a lovely voice."

Josephine looked carefully at the qunari, determined to not misinterpret another compliment. Was there a hidden meaning behind the words, or were they just polite conversation? Was Malora playing the 'game' with her, or was that shy declaration indicative of a deeper admiration? She still couldn't tell. The intonation and cadence weren't the same as she'd remembered when the tall woman had asked her to walk the castle, but it wasn't quite like the short remarks made in Val Royeaux afterward, either. It was somewhere in-between shy and fearful, as if she were afraid to even make such a statement, afraid that it might be unwelcome. What a silly thought… but it did bring to mind many of the things that Sera had said not two hours previous.

"Thank you, Inquisitor," Josephine replied gracefully, watching the qunari's expression darken. "Maryden is quite the songwriter when her energy is properly directed…" She let the sentence trail off as Malora looked away over the sea. What was going on inside the woman's head? Would she ever truly know? She fidgeted a little, glancing over toward her group. They were still performing, this time with Maryden in the lead. Sera was tossing things at her, and though the bard made a big show of being annoyed, Josephine was certain there was a light in her eyes that shone only for the elf. The mischief-maker would never admit it out loud, but that same light was often reflected in her eyes, as well. If only Malora Adaar could be so transparent. She sighed, and looked at the qunari once more.

"So, this is just a traveling band then?" Malora asked, turning her head to meet the human's eyes.

"More or less. I cannot go into detail, but Sera has some things she needs to do and we're providing cover for her."

"It's not safe out here, Josephine," the qunari stated, a little guiltily. It wasn't safe largely because she hadn't spent nearly enough time _making_ it safe. In fact, she had barely dedicated any time to traveling the continent and securing power. How could she when all she wanted to do was be near Josephine? She shook her head inwardly and flexed her toes in her boots, trying to find anything to focus on, anything at all to distract her from the magnificent creature standing before her, the pain that was ripping through her at the thought they might be separated again.

"The camps are crawling with Inquisition soldiers, and they could use the morale boost. I am not really worried about it." Josephine rested her hands on her daggers, almost in challenge, as she held the warrior's gaze. That look was there again, flashing just behind those unreadable eyes. Malora was… concerned, but it wasn't just concern, it was… No, she still couldn't quite place it. How were Leliana and Sera so sure?

"And what happens if you are waylaid in between camps? It's noble what you are trying to do, but it's just not safe." Malora shifted her weight and drew herself up to her full height. Somehow she had to convince the human to return to Skyhold. It was the only place in all of Thedas where Josephine would be protected. It was the only place she could put Josephine that would set her mind at ease.

"We can fight. We've been training for several weeks, you know." Josephine gestured to the rest of her group. "Maryden and I are the only ones who have a bard background. You know Sera is an archer and the two others trained with daggers."

"Is that a fact?" Malora asked. Who was Josephine trying to convince? Her group would be in serious trouble if they came across Tevinter mages or… or worse. She couldn't even think about it.

"It is," the human replied matter-of-factly.

"So you feel prepared to handle anything?" An idea took shape, granted, not a very good one, but an idea nonetheless. She would have to get a message across.

"That's right," Josephine replied, eyeing the qunari nervously.

"Very well then." The warrior pulled her mighty hammer from her back in one fluid motion, using her powerful legs to pivot her body around the human. She wrapped her left arm around Josephine's torso, pinning her arms, and she held the hammer across the human's collarbone in her right, as if it were a sword ready to slice her neck. Josephine's breath caught as she marveled at the massive being's speed and strength. How could one so tall move so quickly?

"Lady Montilyet, you are _not_ ready to be out here on your own."

Josephine looked over her shoulder at Malora, every nerve alive and on fire; the proximity to the Inquisitor pushing her sanity to the limit. The words had been throaty, desperate; almost… almost what she'd expect to hear late at night, wrapped up safely in her lover's arms. For a moment she didn't move a muscle, though her fight or flight response was kicking in. Were they far enough away from the rest of the group that they could expect sufficient privacy? Would she care? If Malora Adaar pushed her to the ground right now, would she just close her eyes and block out the world? Would she let the demon-woman take her?

_Probably._

Josephine tried to turn her head more, tried to adjust her body so she could listen to the qunari's heartbeat, but the thick plate armor made it impossible. She couldn't see Malora's face, either, or the expression on it. She had no way of knowing whether the closeness was affecting the Inquisitor as well, or if it was just all in her head. She looked at the weapon that was held across her chest and thought about what it must weigh. The haft alone must have been at least forty pounds and the hammerhead would add another eighty or so. The counterweight would have to be roughly half that to balance the weapon, so in all it must have been over a hundred pounds to wield, and yet the Inquisitor held it effortlessly in one hand. Her strength was remarkable, and Josephine could almost feel those wonderful muscles against her through the thick armor.

"Inquisitor," she breathed, her heart pounding. She was screaming it in her head, begging the formidable woman to drop the weapon and overpower her, to take what she was once again, ready to offer. And she _was_ ready to offer it, ready to give all of herself and disappear into the night with Malora Adaar.

_If she could just see my eyes right now. She'd see it all in my eyes, and we could end this charade and go home…_

But Inquisitor Adaar did not drop her weapon and she did not spin Josephine around, overwhelmed with desire. Instead, she returned the greathammer to her back and released the human, turning away. "I am sorry if I frightened you, Lady Montilyet, but you have to know it isn't safe out here. I can't let you just roam the wilds with your troupe unprotected. I… I can't."

Josephine's spirit cried out at the loss when Malora let her go. She could _feel_ the warmth through the chainmail links that ran below the plate on the qunari's arms, and that answered one question, at least. But more than that, she felt _comfortable_, like she was a perfect fit in the taller woman's embrace. She longed to feel those arms around her again, and she looked desperately at Malora, hoping to catch a glimpse of something, anything, on her face. But when the Inquisitor turned to her again, her features were as stone.

"Lady Montilyet, I must once again ask you to disband your troupe and send them back to Skyhold." Malora drew her hammer again, holding onto it for self-assurance, and perhaps to have something between her and Josephine.

Josephine shook her head and held her ground, though every fiber of her being was urging her to just push the weapon aside and pull the qunari into the darkness. "I am not going to do that, Inquisitor. I built this troupe, and I am not going to just quit because _you_ say so."

Malora took a deep breath and looked at the sky, whispering for the second time in her life a small prayer to Andraste to give her strength. "I _do_ say so. It's not safe out here and I won't have your death on my conscience."

"Inquisitor, if you…"

Malora slammed the hammerhead into the ground, splitting the earth and interrupting her reply. "Don't _say_ it. Once was enough, and I don't care if you do hate me forever. Better that you hate me and are safe. I need to know that you are _safe._" She paused to take a breath and rested her hand on the hilt. "I am conscripting you into the Inquisition and that's the end of it. Disband your troupe and send them back to Skyhold."

Josephine glared daggers at Malora, furious. "I am not going back to Skyhold."

"No, you're not," the qunari agreed. "If I send you back I have no guarantee you won't just build the troupe back up and leave again. You are joining my party. Get your gear, say your goodbyes, and fall in line." Malora picked the hammer back up and threw it over her shoulder. She saluted Josephine, and then turned and returned to the camp.

Josephine stood there staring after the Inquisitor. That had been… well confusing was putting it mildly. That strange look was in her eyes again just before she left, but it was still unreadable. Why couldn't she just… just…

_And I thought Leliana was impossible…_

"Is she serious?" Sera asked, appearing out of the shadows and crossing her arms. "She's really going to just break it up like that?"

"I… I guess so," Josephine said, still staring after Malora.

"Well, piss. At least you get to stay, and that's all right, innit? It's what you wanted?" Sera elbowed Josephine.

"Yes, I guess it kind of _is_ what I wanted, though I did not expect it to happen _this_ way." Josephine rested a hand on her dagger and looked at the ground. She wanted to be close to Malora, but not as a conscripted soldier. What game was the Inquisitor playing? The mixed signals were starting to wear her mind out. "I don't understand it, Sera. First she tells me she's sorry for interfering in my life, and I think I'm probably never going to see her again, and then she's here, out here in the middle of nowhere, just watching me from the crowd. Then I'm in her arms and I swear there was something in her eyes, something I felt in that embrace… something I just couldn't catch and hold... And now I'm a conscripted soldier?" She looked at Sera pleadingly, as if the elf could make any sense of it.

"Don't look at me; I don't know what she's doing. Well fit, but dumb as rocks, that one. Glad I dodged _that _arrow. Wouldn't want to be caught in all this," she gestured to the… everything.

"Sera…"

"All right, well it's just obvious, innit? She's in _love_ with you but has no clue how to just _say _it, so here she does all this stupidity instead. Conscripting and shit. Now you're close to her, where she wanted you to begin with, but now she's got this whole," Sera made an all-encompassing motion with her arms, "image she has to maintain. It's _stupid_, but she's _stupid_, and if you want her you'll have to be stupid too_, _yeah?"

Josephine shook her head. This was not what she needed right now. Not by a long shot. She needed advice, but the kind that made _sense._ "Sera…" she said again, noting with some amusement that their conversations normally went as such, the elf droning on about nonsense and her replying with little more than the imp's name.

"Just… I dunno. She's still figuring it all out. So why not just stay? I will too. Cassandra will pucker up over that one, but she's got to be sick of Varric by now. We can send the rest back with him. Come on. It'll be fun." Sera hooked her arm through Josie's and signaled to Maryden to continue without them. "Just give it a try."

Josephine watched Malora grab a spear from a nearby weapons rack and disappear down the southern pathway. "Where do you think she is going?"

Sera watched as well and shrugged. "She grabbed a spear, so my guess? Hunting. She probably needs to get some _frustration_ out of her system." The elf pulled on Josephine, pointing to where the main companions were camped. "Don't worry, Josie. We all complained about the rations and shit once, and after that she started going on a hunt before every mission. She'll be fine. It's no big deal. Come _on_!"

Josephine sighed, still watching the path though Malora had long since disappeared. Sera was right about one thing, at least. Now they were together again. Whatever happened next, whatever all of this meant, at least she knew one thing for certain.

Inquisitor Malora Adaar had followed her after all.


	8. Chapter 8

**_A/N_**_ – So many talented and popular authors reading and reviewing my work. I am humbled and honored._

_Interesting comparison – the whole Xena\Gabrielle thing. You know, and I say this with perhaps a small amount of shame, I was never really into that show so... I probably don't understand quite what you mean. High fantasy has always been a sort of… an afterthought for me. I'm Space Operas all the way. This is merely a distraction while I wait for the next Mass Effect. Thank you also for the insight on fixing my apparent troubles with Leliana. I haven't played that game in years. I just remember somehow being a complete failure in that regard and stubbornly refusing to read a guide._

_This story is about Adaar because that just happens to be the character I picked when I started (because fucking **demon-women**, hell yea!), not necessarily because I think they are the most believable match. Besides that, exploring the challenges these two might have had were they involved in a 'for real' romance (and not just a storyteller's fantasy where everything is just perfect rosepetals that fall into place) is kind of fun._

_Thanks again for the comments._

* * *

_Edit 3/10/15 - I will be moving this comment to the next chapter when it's posted but wanted to clarify why I used the terms I did. Vashoth vs Tal-Vashoth_

_This is one of those weird BioWare things where they... I don't want to use the word retcon because it's not so much a retcon as an evolution of the qunari as a race. Technically even referring to Adaar as a qunari is incorrect according to their customs. But, when you ask Iron Bull about what it's like to be a qunari the first thing out of his mouth is "You are not a qunari. You are Tal-Vashoth. World of difference." So he might clarify what a Vashoth is versus Tal-Vashoth later, but I took this as proof that even among the true qunari they use the terms relatively interchangeably. This is not the only place that reference appears. It'__s littered throughout the game that she is a "Tal-Vashoth Mercenary", Iron Bull asks about your company and you can answer that they were all other "Tal-Vashoth" - so I am going to leave this particular bit as written. The mercenary company is also a bit of a strange point. Your captain is referred to as William "Iron-ass" Tully". That's a decidedly human name, but the messages you get at the war table are from other qunari mercs, suggesting that the company was in fact, qunari. So which was it? A random merc in a human band? A human commanding a squadron of qunari mercs? A qunari with weird parents who liked the name Bill? It's not clear. _

_Nitpicky for certain, but I like nitpicky because it makes you think. And I did think a lot about it before writing it this way. Thanks so much for the review!_

* * *

**_Late night, somewhere in the wilderness_**

_What is wrong with me?_

Inquisitor Malora Adaar grabbed a spear from the nearby weapons rack and nearly ran down the path toward Crestwood. How could she have been so… so… foolish? How could she have actually laid her hands on Josephine Montilyet like some common bandit, in front of the entire Inquisition? Well, maybe not the _entire_ Inquisition, but certainly enough of the inner circle for word to make it back to Leliana. It was a notion borne of desperation, of insanity. Of course Josephine knew how dangerous it was out here. She didn't need an idiotic qunari twice her weight accosting her in the camp to remind her of what they faced.

_Josephine must have been so frightened. That expression on her face, Maker, if she did not think me a monster before she surely does now._

Malora gripped her weapons more tightly, the hammer in her right and the spear in her left. She felt reckless, foolhardy, and she longed for an enemy to introduce to her rage. Templars, mages, bandits, wolves, it didn't matter. Any threat, anything to take her mind off what she had done and what she would face when she returned to camp.

_If_ she returned to camp.

Far easier to run away, run away and never return. Unconsciously she glanced behind her, almost expecting pursuit. If Josephine lodged a complaint that would likely be the end of her time in the Inquisition. The humans would never stand for it. Herald of Andraste or no, they wouldn't allow a Tal-Vashoth mercenary to abuse one of their own, especially not one so prominent in all the right circles.

_So stupid! I was so stupid and idiotic and… Maker, Cassandra why didn't you stop me from this fool's errand? I count on you!_

Malora stopped suddenly and took several deep breaths. Blaming Cassandra wouldn't get her anywhere. This wasn't the human's fault, not by a long shot. She was just following orders, like a good soldier. And she had offered comfort, like a good friend. The qunari sighed and her shoulders slumped, the weight of her weapons finally wearing on her muscles. But it wasn't just the weight of the weapons; it was the weight of the world, of that hole in the sky, of the hole in her heart. She returned the hammer to her back and gripped the spear in both hands, grateful for its strong and calming presence. Weaponry was like that for her. Cold steel melded to her skin, the metallic brightness accentuating her own hoary color. It was simple, something she could understand; something she could know intimately without fear, without reservation. Mercenary life suited her – point her at a target and like a finely honed beam, she would cut a path through whatever was blocking her way.

They loved her back then, the others in her company. All from different backgrounds and circumstances, they looked up to her and she was often given command of small squadrons by the company leader. He never said a word to her about why; it wasn't until much later she learned from Josephine how highly he thought of her, but he always put her in charge, always gave her an opportunity to shine. She still remembered it clearly – that day when she was ordered to capture the head of a notorious bandit chief. She and her small group spent twenty grueling hours in the pouring, freezing rain, but she never wavered. She waited silently, eyes on the road. Her presence radiated strength and solidarity. Nothing else existed between the weapon she held at the ready and the whispered promise of a thrilling reward, the satisfying crunch of her target's bones in her iron grip. Truthfully she barely even noticed the cold, even as the members of her squad complained. It soaked them all through to the bone but all she felt was a quiet sense of awareness, an acute, singular focus on her task. Everything else faded into the mists that surrounded them and when opportunity arose, when the matrons of war looked down upon her with an encouraging smile, she commanded her muscles to strike and they complied, earning her the respect of her comrades, and the pleasant jingle of a rather large sum of sovereigns.

And from there, that faraway place where her only duty was to herself and perhaps one or two immediate companions, she was now here. Her experiences had prepared her for some of the responsibility, of course, but this was more than just a mercenary company and a payday. This was an _army, _an army that she had played a large part in bringing together. The entire world might fall to a madman, and there had already been so much death; so much despair.

She thought for a moment about what the world might look like with Corypheus in charge. The people would be enslaved, experimented on, likely. He was hideous and had equally hideous ideas about what it meant to 'worship' a god, and he had already sworn vengeance; he would go to great lengths to see the Inquisition crushed and its leader destroyed. She imagined Josephine, her lovely Josephine, chained and bound, perhaps prepared as a human sacrifice… blood washing out her eyes and her mouth open in a silent scream, a silent scream for _her_, for the Inquisitor, the one who had _sworn_ to set all of this right. He would cross the line, if he knew. He would use Josephine against her. Malora shut her eyes and gripped the spear so tightly her knuckles cracked. She was supposed to set all of this right. Distractions weren't an option. It was that simple.

Why had this happened _now_? She'd managed to get through her entire life without the complications of… whatever this was. Sure she'd had a couple of brief encounters in her lifetime; she remembered raven hair and a fiery smile, a sharp wit and even sharper arrows; that adventurous young human in the forest who'd run away from the cities to live in freedom like a wild elf, but it was nothing serious. It had been pleasurable and she enjoyed passing time with the young woman whenever her travels took her through the Kocari Wilds where the most dangerous witches dwelled, but she harbored no illusions about what it _was_. Neither of them terribly experienced; neither of them looking for much more than fleeting moments in one another's arms. It wasn't love. It probably wasn't even lust. It just _was_, and once upon a time, that had been more than enough for her.

Before that there had been another Tal-Vashoth, a cheeky rogue who would drink a toast to your health as soon as put a blade in your chest. She was older and experienced, knowledgeable in the ways of the world. And she was beautiful, oh so beautiful. She had a coldness about her that reminded Malora strangely of the Seeker, but she wasn't forged of steel and will as the human warrior had been. She was forged of a thousand centuries of regret, of lost memories, of recapturing the glory of days passed and battles long forgotten. She had probably been the closest, but even when she left to travel the seas in search of her fortune, it never occurred to Malora to follow. Their time was ended. The experience was filed away as little more than a passing fancy; locked in the deep recesses of her memory to seldom be revisited again.

So what had happened this time? What was different about Josephine? What compelled her to put aside responsibility and pursue the ambassador into the wild? And why did she always seem to be attracted to rogues? They were the most irrepressible class; difficult to capture and tame, impossible to have and keep. It was a recipe for disaster.

Malora sighed again and continued walking down the path; albeit at a much slower pace. Enough time had passed; there was no one in pursuit. She rested the spear on her shoulder and put her senses on automatic, letting her mercenary training take over while she continued to sort out her thoughts and feelings. What _was_ different about Josephine? Never in a million years would she have thought her heart would be captured by an Antivan, and a noble at that. The two of them couldn't be further apart in terms of race, class, calling, all of it. They had little to nothing in common and the only reason they had even met was because of that pesky end of the world thing thrusting them together; victims of extraordinary circumstance. No, if they had met in a tavern or somewhere along the road, they likely would not have even made a passing remark to one another, much less kindled a friendship… and certainly never a romance. In the end, Josephine counted on her for leadership and strength, but she would never look upon a qunari mercenary with desire. In the end, Malora Adaar stood alone, the last bastion of a desperate hope. That was what was expected of her. That was _all_ that was expected, or desired, of her.

_She can't even call me by my name, not even my last name like so many others do. She uses everyone else's names, but for me… I will always be the 'Inquisitor' to her. I will always be nobody to her._

And that was the end of her deliberation, the rational part of her mind finally convincing the hopeful part of her that what she longed for was foolish. It would be better to turn her thoughts back to Inquisition tasks. There were a few territories yet to claim and a stray rift on the outskirts they hadn't gotten to yet, so there was still a bit to do out here. She'd keep Josephine in her party for the time being and finish up on the Storm Coast, but then she would take steps to bring this to a close. It would give her time to sort things out in her head. Josephine would remain close and perhaps as time went on she would tire of life on the road and agree to return to Skyhold. Or perhaps Malora's emotions would dull, and she would no longer have this irrational attraction to the Antivan noble. Then she could treat her like a member of the company proper, like she was just another soldier. Yes, that would work. At any rate, it was as solid a plan as she was likely to come up with under these strenuous conditions.

She made her way down through the East Side Hills, looking around her at the familiar wildlife, grateful for the gentle solace it afforded her. It was quiet here now that they had closed the rift in the lake, and though wisps of lingering spirits sang their mournful songs, stuck in another time, another place, she still drew a strange comfort from their presence. Malora liked coming here, not because of the destruction and the memory of pain and loss, but because it was a reminder that small decisions have ripple effects, and often all it takes is the bad judgment of one individual to destroy an entire community. It grounded her in stark reality; a slap in the face to remind her of what was at stake, what the sheer _scale_ was. She vaguely hoped that she would make… better choices. She wondered about the nuances between doing what was right… and doing what _seemed_ right, right now.

Malora sighed again and stopped moving, glancing at the cave to her right, and the large druffalo sipping water from a small pond a short distance away. Burying herself more deeply in her insecure mind wouldn't help anyone. It certainly wouldn't bring her closer to any answers. She looked up at the stars and judged the time to be just after midnight.

_I've been walking for at least an hour_.

The darkness was deep but the stars were bright. Did she have enough energy to take on the large beast refreshing itself by the water? It would feed the company for the rest of their stay on the Storm Coast and perhaps then some, if she could take it down. It certainly would be a better choice for the large party than some of the smaller game she'd spied during her walk. She looked down at her spear and hefted it in one hand, judging her strength and level of fatigue.

_No, I cannot fight it tonight. Tomorrow morning I will rise with the sun and hunt._

She rested the weapon across her shoulder and let her head fall forward. She was exhausted. The day's events had drained her worse than even the rift that had left a bit of itself in her, though she looked at her arm and the still visible scar and realized that perhaps Solas was right and it was a contributing factor. She had been considerably weakened. The tear in her flesh where he had pulled the piece of… whatever… out of her was blackened and painful, and she was tired, so very tired. All she wanted to do was lie down and rest, let darkness overtake her and slumber claim her. All she wanted to do was revisit her dreams, where she could be herself without fear, without judgment. She made her way toward the cave, its sanctuary and solitude calling to her. The druffalo would live another day, and as Malora Adaar tucked herself against the wall, staring at the comforting green glow of her hand, she gave herself over to thoughts of another place, another time, another life, where her dreams might come true, where she might be greeted as a lover, instead of suffered as an accidental savior.

* * *

**_Forward Camp, Late night_**

"You are right. We should probably go over there." Josephine nodded toward the core companions. Varric, Vivienne and Cassandra were gathered around a fire, their low murmurs of conversation drowned out by the rest of the small company of bards and their performance. She glanced over at Maryden, a smile ghosting her features as she watched the skillful minstrel entrance what was left of the crowd with her clever songs and resonating voice.

"Right. Race you!" Sera took off with the lightning agility common to her kind, leaving an exasperated Josephine in her wake.

"I am not racing you, Sera." The former ambassador fought the amusement that threatened to overcome her features… and the temptation to also take flight as she might have done in her youth. Despite all that had happened, Sera's energy had been good for her and it had helped keep her from completely buckling under the weight of the pain and rejection. Never before had she found herself in a situation she couldn't talk her way out of. This? This was uncharted territory; a sick mimicry of the grand game with stakes that threatened to destroy the very core of who she was.

She shook her head sadly and followed her roguish friend to the campfire, absently deciding to set Maryden in charge of her small group and send them back to Skyhold in the morning. Regardless of what came next, Sera was right. This was what she wanted. This was the only reason she had even built this group. She now had an opportunity to fight by the Inquisitor's side and prove herself a worthy companion.

"Welcome, Ambassador, Sera," Cassandra said as the two seated themselves, or rather, as Josephine seated herself and Sera flopped onto the bench next to her.

"Miss me, M.D.?" Sera waggled her eyebrows at the warrior, earning herself an eyeroll and a scoff.

"I do not even want to know what that one means."

"Where is the Inquisitor?" Varric asked, leaning against Bianca protectively. Sera was dangerously close to the weapon and the last time she'd been near it she'd nearly snapped his new aiming module off.

Josephine looked at Sera for help. Obviously she knew everyone had seen her talking with Malora and… and well they likely had seen the other stuff as well, but she wasn't confident she would be able to keep the pain out of her voice if she answered.

"She went on her usual hunt. Just going spear some fish, I'm sure. It's late." Sera stretched her legs across Josephine's lap and started examining her bowstrings, glancing every now and again at Varric's weapon to keep him on his toes.

"No," Cassandra said with a curious look at Josephine, "She will likely bring something bigger than that. There is enough light for her to hunt by tonight." The warrior took out her sword and started sharpening it, stretching one leg out against her pack, where her treasured letters were stowed.

"Whatever she brings back, I hope it's soon," Sera said. "I'm _starving_."

"Here," Varric said as he threw a small packet at her. "We've got rations."

"Pfft," she replied, but she caught the package and tore into it anyway.

Cassandra snorted and looked at Josephine, who had been silent since joining the group. "Ambassador, are you all right?" She rested her arms over the flat of her blade and leaned forward, concerned.

"I do not… know." Josephine admitted. "I find myself… very confused."

"Confused about what?" the warrior asked.

Josephine gestured to the camp and the core companions. "Confused about all of this. Confused about the Inquisitor. I… I've been conscripted into the Inquisition and I am to join you, join your party." She looked down at her hands, absently scraping her nails together.

The warrior looked at Josephine for several long moments, working things out in her mind. She'd of course seen the exchange between the human and qunari; indeed, everyone had been watching to see if they needed to step in on behalf of one or the other, but the situation was difficult to interpret and over again almost as soon as it had begun. She trusted the Inquisitor and didn't think that the warrior seriously meant to cause harm to Josephine, but her idea of showing her feelings was decidedly… strange. Cassandra didn't understand it at all. Adaar was bold in so many ways; a pillar of strength that radiated steadfast balance to all those around her, but in others she was as a frightened youth. It was a failing of inexperience, of a lack of perspective. "I hardly see that there is anything to be confused about. It's clear _why _the Inquisitor did what she did, though she is being rather ridiculous and childish about it." Cassandra resumed her task, carefully running the stone along the steel.

"It's not clear to me. I didn't want this. I feel… trapped."

"Oh you're not trapped, Josie. I bet she didn't even sign the papers. Did you _see_ any papers? Or just a bunch of bluster? That one, all talk, yeah?" Sera rolled over and curled up in Josephine's lap like a cat.

"Sera is right, Ambassador. I do not believe she means to conscript you into the militia proper. She just wants you safe. If you will not return to Skyhold as our liaison to the rest of the world, her only choice is to keep you with her. Do you truly not see the turmoil she is in over you?" Cassandra inspected her work, and then put the sword away. She reached for her pack and withdrew some oil and a small cloth, taking care to brush against the packet of letters. She removed her shield from her back and began cleaning and polishing it.

"I…" Josephine started, before falling silent again. Malora was in turmoil? Was that what she saw in those eyes, the usual brightness dissipating and giving way to anguish? Confusion? Fear? She had initially thought it was the spark of attraction, but could it be something else? Could it be both? All of the above? How could Malora feel so many things all at once? "I do not know what you mean."

"Yes, you do," Cassandra replied easily, not taking her eyes off the shield. She pressed harder at a particularly deep scratch, pushing the cloth inside and working out all the blood and dirt.

"I…" Josephine started to reply, but then fell silent again.

Cassandra inspected her work, and then laid her shield down beside her. She returned her tools to the pack and sat forward, clasping her hands together over her knees, completely focused on Josephine. "Why are you doing this, Ambassador? Why are you here?"

A few moments went by before Josephine answered. When she did, it was in a small, overwhelmed voice. "I do not even know anymore. I feel like, if I give up now and return to Skyhold, I will be admitting defeat."

"Admitting defeat? Defeat at the hands of what_?"_

"I do not _know_. I failed once at being a bard. I feel like if I fail a second time, perhaps I am not worthy."

"Pfft the two of you and your _shit_," Sera interrupted, stretching. "What is worthy, anyway? You didn't think you were worthy when you were a rich tit with fancy clothes. Now you don't think you're worthy down here at the bottom? And _she_ doesn't think she's worthy of _you_. What a load of it." Sera adjusted herself so she could look up at the human, cheek resting on her palm. "_Maybe_ that's not what you're worried about at all. Never done it, yeah? I can help with that." The elf grinned mischievously, running a finger down Josephine's neck toward the center of her chest.

"That is _not_ it, Sera. I am actually quite knowledgeable in… that is I have given the matter much attention… I, oh just _shut it_. I am _not_ getting into this right now." She brushed Sera's hand away and crossed her arms, putting a barrier up between herself and the incorrigible rogue.

"Fine, have it your way. How do you think qunari do it?" Sera, unperturbed, turned over again to face the fire, picking up some debris from the ground and throwing it in.

Varric suppressed a chuckle. "What do you mean? They seem to be… uh… equipped the same way we are." He grinned at Sera. He liked where _this_ was going.

"I mean, take Adaar for example. She's got those horns that just point straight back, right? On her head? How d'ya think she bottoms? All fours then?"

"Sera!" Josephine pushed the rogue out of her lap, earning a booming laugh from Varric, a chuckle from Vivienne, and even a slight twitch of amusement from the Seeker.

Sera just took it in stride and sat at Josephine's feet, looking up at the human innocently. "What? It's a valid question. Here's another one, yeah? You think they would like, scrape along the side? You know, right in here?" Sera traced a line along the inside of her thighs, looking down very seriously.

"Ok, that's quite enough," Josephine grabbed Sera's wrists and looked pleadingly at Cassandra for support.

The warrior just shrugged. "Do not look at _me,_ Ambassador. I have asked Adaar to keep Sera under control numerous times. She does have a point, though. You cannot possibly believe that you aren't worthy of Adaar. There is something more going on here. What is _really_ bothering you?"

Josephine leaned back and sighed as Sera made herself comfortable again, resting her head against the human's leg. "I… I cannot read her. When I think I have her figured out, when I believe I've cornered her next move, she does something entirely unexpected. Our conversations never go how I imagine they should. It is unsettling and not something I am used to. I'm used to knowing my opponent's move in the game before they even do."

Cassandra nodded. "That has been my experience with the Inquisitor as well. One thing is clear though, at least to me, and that is you are special to her."

"I wish I could believe that," Josephine replied, uncertainty in her voice.

"And why do you not believe it? Has she not spent every second of her free time in your offices? Has she not paused everything to help you when you've asked?"

"Yes but, she has done that for all of us. She even helped you close up your old Seeker business."

Cassandra nodded, "Truthfully, she did. However, she did not stop the entire Inquisition to do it. We made detours during our travels on other business. For you, we waited weeks as she helped your political posturing. We did nothing to further the cause while she let you do your scheming. Leliana could have finished it quickly, but Adaar did what _you_ wanted, because it was important to her that you were happy. Do you truly believe she does not wish more from you than friendship?"

"You sound just like Leliana." Josephine shook her head and adjusted herself, kicking a little at Sera's back.

"Leliana is wise and you ought to heed her," Cassandra said with a small smile. "She has some experience in these matters, and she knows the pain that results from holding too much back for too long. Has she never spoken to you of Elissa?"

Josephine nodded. "She has. I'd never really thought to apply it to my own situation, though."

"It is not the same," the warrior agreed, "but it may very well end up the same if you continue to hide your true feelings from Adaar. There is real danger in the world, and none of us has the luxury of time. One day the Inquisitor may fall and not get up again, and will you regret never telling her of your thoughts? It took years for Leliana to recover from Elissa's death, and she's carried that regret for so long…" Cassandra glanced down at her pack, where her letters were stowed, questions dancing on the edges of her mind. "I am not certain she is truly over it, even now."

Josephine gazed down at her fingertips, touching a thumb to each, one after the other and back. "How can I be sure it is the right thing to do?"

Cassandra looked sharply at Josephine, a sudden white-hot anger bubbling forth. "How can you be certain it is the right thing to do? This is affecting the entire operation and we will all be in very real danger of failure if Adaar cannot regain her focus. I understand how distracting romance can be, but to willfully antagonize the situation is irresponsible. Open your eyes and look around you, Ambassador. What of this little display?" she said flatly, gesturing to the group. "She could have very easily found another representative for the Inquisition, but instead of that, she takes all of us to pursue you. Then she forces you into our party to keep you close. All of the things she has done have been out of a personal agenda regarding you, _not_ for the good of the Inquisition."

"She left, though," Josephine pointed out, looking down over the path that Malora had taken.

"She is confused and upset. She will return with the dawn, I am certain, and you will need to make a decision. This cannot continue for much longer. I will not _allow_ this to continue for much longer." Her voice held the promise of threat, and for a moment, Josephine understood what their enemies must feel when staring down the end of the Seeker's sword. Cassandra picked up her pack and weapons, nodding toward the tents. "Normally Adaar and I share a tent, but if you wish, you are welcome to join me tonight, Josephine."

Josephine looked down at Sera curiously. "You mean you don't," she started before getting cut off by a fit of giggles.

"Seriously, Josie? Still? Clean out your ears. There's _nothing_ there!" Sera shook her head, reaching for the sky and stretching her muscles.

"I am usually stuck with Sera, my dear. It is awful, but I make sacrifices for Adaar." Vivienne stood gracefully and lifted her staff, giving Sera a pointed look. "Are you coming?"

Sera rolled around in another fit of giggles, holding her stomach and kicking her legs. "Too easy, that one. I can't even _say_ it!" Finally she pushed herself from the ground and followed the mage toward the tents, leaving Josephine with Varric.

"Well, you've certainly got the Seeker wound up," he said as he relaxed his vigilance on Bianca.

"I do not think I have ever seen her angry before," Josephine replied, watching the warrior disappear into a tent on the far side of the camp. "It's quite unnerving."

"Eh, don't worry about her. She's not angry, not really. She's just frustrated and would rather be somewhere else. She's right though. Why_ don't_ you just tell Adaar how you feel? Seems like it would cut through a lot of bullshit if you did."

Josephine closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I do not know. I am still unsure, unsure about all of this."

Varric shrugged, gazing off into the distance over the sea. "Cassandra isn't known for her patience, and we may have elected Adaar the leader but make no mistake; the Seeker will take charge if she needs to. She'll separate you two for good if she thinks it will put things back to the way they were and get her back to… well get everything on track."

"I know that."

Varric nodded and leaned against Bianca again, turning his gaze to the fire. Why did it seem like his job here was dealing with everyone's romantic troubles? Sure, he knew a little bit about heartache and he'd observed enough relationships over the years to be well versed in the 'dance', as some liked to put it, but seriously? This was worse than even Hawke and Merrill had been. Those two spent _years_ not knowing quite how to advance their courtship, but at least they admitted to what it _was_ and didn't drag everyone else into it. And he'd really thought that Cassandra and Leliana would be at one another's throats for a while yet, and not in a good way. But even that, the most forbidden and dangerous of liaisons, the right and left hands of the Divine herself had somehow gotten beyond the awkward initial stages of romance to find one another in the creeping obscurity that was the deepening darkness over Thedas. Even they managed it somehow, as unlikely as it seemed.

_I suppose they are just older and are beyond all of this nonsense. Maybe I didn't even have to encourage the Seeker to seize the moment. Maybe it was extraneous. Hawke and Merrill were young and needed a nudge, and Josephine and Adaar are probably around the same age, if not then certainly the same experience level. They don't appreciate the danger, the fact that it could all disappear in the blink of an eye. They don't yet know how final 'game over' can be. I guess you don't really appreciate things like that until you've watched your city burn to the ground a couple times._

He sighed and shook his head, resigned to his fate. This was his vicious cycle, and perhaps it was his punishment for his past transgressions. Still, in some small way it allowed him to live vicariously through others. It kept his mind busy, and kept him from missing things too much. It had been a very long time since he'd seen her…

"Josephine, I'm going to give you a little bit of friendly advice." He thought for a moment, considering his phrasing, and then pointed to the pathway where Adaar had disappeared. "If you want that," he leaned forward conspiratorially, "and there is no reason in the world that you _shouldn't_ want that," he leaned back again, "then go after it."

"Go after the Inquisitor?"

Varric waved a hand, "I don't mean go chasing her through the wilderness. She could be miles from here by now and believe it or not, for all that height and bulk, she's a skilled and silent hunter. You won't easily find her if she doesn't want to be found. Besides, if she ever caught wind that I let you go traipsing through the woods in the middle of the night, she'd… Well I don't want to speculate on what she might do. It would be bad, though. Really bad. No, what I mean is, if you want her then just be straightforward about it. Tell her. Say something, _anything_. Just do it soon, like tomorrow. Don't keep dragging this out. I love to see the Seeker worked up as much as the next guy, but it would be conducive to my future survival if she… calmed down a bit."

"I…"

"And stop with the uncertainty already. You're beautiful and charming and she's been smitten since the day she met you. You've had your fun little adventure, but now it's time to wrap things up and get back to work. Anyway, why don't you send Sera back to Skyhold with your group? With the three of us here we're a little rogue-heavy. I'm sure she won't mind being sent back. She can keep them sharp."

"That is a good idea, Varric." Josephine finally found her words and smiled a genuine smile at him.

"Ok then." He leveraged his hands on his knees as he pushed to his feet. "I'll offer you the same invitation the Seeker did. Tent is open if you'd like some company. I'll be up for a while yet. I've got a few things I want to jot down."

"I think I'll stay out here for now. Perhaps the Inquisitor will return tonight." Josephine lowered herself to the ground with her back against the makeshift bench.

"Perhaps she will. See you in the morning." He hefted Bianca in one arm and saluted Josephine as he walked away.

_Perhaps she will. Perhaps she will return tonight, find me asleep, pick me up from the ground and carry me to her tent. Perhaps I won't have to say the words._

_And perhaps Corypheus will repent and join the Chantry to beg forgiveness of the Maker._

She shook her head and crossed her arms, looking into the flames, hoping to find answers. At length, she fell into a deep slumber, head falling against her chest, thoughts of Malora Adaar's arms around her, her only blanket beneath the stars.

* * *

**_Unstable Imaginings_**

'_Where am I? This place is… unfamiliar.'_

_Josephine Montilyet looked around her, examining her surroundings. She was standing in space, somewhere in the void, someplace wild and untamed, some land that was dangerous and enticing and unrecognizable… but it was nowhere. Nothing. Empty. She watched the sun rise over the horizon, but it wasn't the sun, it was a star, and the light wasn't bright, it was a magnificent darkness, an inviting desolation, an alluring… silence. All the existing colors surrounded her in a beautifully washed out translucency even as the night shrouded her, and nothing was clear or certain in this place between the worlds. Her breath caught as she felt pressure at her waist; an arm snaking around it. The motion was mirrored in reverse around her collarbone, not terribly unlike the way the Inquisitor had held her earlier in the day, except that this time her arms were not immobile, and there was no weapon at her throat. The embrace was familiar, and strangely, she was not afraid._

_She brought her hand up so that her fingertips rested lightly on the taut muscle of her companion's forearm, gazing out into the distance, gazing out into nothingness. Her voice resonated in the open space, echoing through the ages, dancing along the still wind._

"_Where are we?"_

"_Does it matter?" The voice was low and husky, reminiscent of something… someone… that was achingly familiar to her, that she _wanted_ to be familiar to her._

"_I suppose… I suppose not." And it didn't matter. Nothing mattered in this place in between worlds. Nothing could reach her here, save her own fears and runaway thoughts. What were those fears? It was there again, that strange fight or flight response from earlier when she was in Malora's arms, but it wasn't the same. There wasn't a weapon involved, for one, and she wasn't even certain that it was Malora behind her. It could have been anyone… well anyone tall enough to envelop her so completely, anyway. She looked down at the flesh beneath her fingertips, that strange metallic color that was at once shimmering and leaden. Scars, too many to count, some small and others so large and deep that she thought they must surely still cause pain, adorned it; masochistic tattoos that told the stories of a lifetime. She traced her fingers over them, inhaling that dangerous scent she had come to associate with the Inquisitor, and her heart started to beat just a little bit faster. It was Malora._

"_Is this a dream?"_

_There was a pause. Then, "It must be. It is only in my dreams that you love me."_

_She wondered at the words and the meaning behind them. It was a very strange thing for the qunari to say in **her** dream, after all. And then her body was being turned, spun, rounded in a deliciously smooth way to face her captor, exactly how she'd fantasized it would be. She looked up into icy eyes, a hardened face, but with softness, tenderness, and sorrow beneath. Longing. That glimpse of emotion she'd tried to capture and hold onto earlier in the night was there in full force, smoldering just under the surface, reflected in those strangely steel irises. She lifted her hands to Malora's shoulders and waited, breath catching at the intensity of the qunari's gaze, at the force and power behind it, at the promise… at the unspoken question. If this was indeed a dream, it was a good dream. She ran her fingertips experimentally over the muscled arms that held her, recalling the fire of weeks ago, allowing it to light anew. Here, she could be anyone, anything. Here, she could be Malora Adaar's lover. Here, in the depths of her imagination, where no one could ever tread without her permission, she could lie down and give of herself, her offering accepted and treasured._

"_Malora…" the name was whispered, but not hollow. Breathy, but not weak. It was riddled with emotion, the same question, the same promise. Those eyes had never left hers, and those hands were still on her waist, but the Inquisitor hadn't moved. Why hadn't she moved? This was Josephine's dream, was it not? Here, at least, she should be able to have the Inquisitor's affections. It may have been denied to her in the reality of the world where the reign of chaos was but a hair's breadth away, but here? This was **her** world. She rested her wrists over Malora's shoulders and moved closer, acutely aware that there was strangely little between them. The warrior usually wore heavy plate armor, but was currently dressed in nothing but a simple tunic and loose fitting trousers. 'Well, of course she is, Josephine. What else would she be wearing in your dream? Don't be silly.'_

_Still the Inquisitor had not moved, and those piercing, steely sharp eyes still held her own. "Malora," she breathed again, breaking the silence, pressing herself against the tall warrior, "I want you…" She smiled as the declaration caught fire in the qunari's eyes, awakening something carnal and irrepressible in their stormy depths. She closed her own eyes and tilted her head back as the much taller being leaned down, ice and fire suddenly coursing through her veins as they met midway, an unspoken request finally fulfilled. Malora pushed her back into the soft… grass… cradling her head and laying her down gently. No, that wasn't quite right. The substance underneath her back was soothing and comfortable; but it was cloudlike, airy. It was there, and it wasn't, all at the same time. It didn't matter anyway. It would serve its purpose, and she slipped her hands over Malora's shoulders and pulled down insistently on the back of her neck as the demon-woman settled onto her, seeking greater pressure, seeking a deeper connection. All those long months that had stretched into what felt like a lifetime poured into this one perfect moment, this one unique experience, this one inspiring assault on her senses as Inquisitor Malora Adaar's lips touched hers._

_Was this what it felt like? Was this lust? Love? Something else? Strange noises escaped her throat, unbidden, uncontrolled, and she felt Malora's weight shift, pressing against her, but not nearly close enough. The qunari was supporting herself with her arms, perhaps afraid her weight might be unwelcome. She removed her hands from the back of Malora's neck and ran her fingertips along the warrior's torso, wrapping a leg around her and pulling her closer, inviting her to fall into darkness. Little noises of pleasure were escaping the warrior's throat as well, and Josephine found that the sound drove her into a frenzy. When the qunari broke away and bit gently at the delicate skin on her neck, she thought the sheer feeling alone might push her over the edge. She gripped the hem of the tunic Malora wore and pulled on it, desperate to feel more skin, more of the steely fire against her._

"_So eager," the demon-woman whispered in her ear, the soft breath activating a throb deep in her abdomen, somewhere hidden and locked away, slumbering… undisturbed. The words weren't a complaint, really. There was no hint of annoyance or irritation… it was more like… surprise? Another mystery, but it didn't matter. She wasn't going to stop and have a discussion in her fantasy about it. The tunic came off easily enough, only catching slightly on Malora's majestic horns, and she immediately pulled the warrior against her again, resting her hands on the bare skin, the heat very nearly overwhelming her. This was definitely what love felt like. Fire coursed through her veins everywhere Malora's hands roamed, and those hands were everywhere and nowhere at once. They were clumsy, but insistent. Reverent, but desperate, as if there was not a moment to lose._

_Perhaps there wasn't._

_Josephine's own clothing was suddenly much, much too restrictive. She paused her ministrations along Malora's skin for a moment to tug at her own cloth barriers, her small, frustrated whimpers drawing a hearty laugh from her companion._

"_This is not funny, Malora. I want to feel you against me…" She continued to struggle with her clothing, studiously ignoring the amusement flickering in the qunari's eyes. Undressing wasn't exactly easy, given the circumstances, and her partner's size. She enjoyed the feel of the warrior's body on her, but it made it decidedly difficult to…_

"_Let me help you with that," Adaar whispered, pushing herself to her knees and letting her hands gently trace the fabric down Josephine's abdomen. "So beautiful. I do not deserve this…"_

_Josephine caught Malora's hands in her own and threaded their fingers together, using them as leverage to pull herself to a sitting position. That was another strange thing for the qunari to say in her fantasy. In fact, there usually wasn't much talking at all when she thought about them in… these situations. Why was the Inquisitor so damned hesitant in this particular dream?_

"_Of course you do," she replied, not certain how to reassure her partner. It was odd to have to reassure her at all. Was Malora just nervous about this level of intimacy? She understood nervousness and fear well enough; her own first experience had been practically a nightmare. Sweaty hands all over her, insistent grunts, destination thankfully reached before she could put too much thought into what was happening, and then nothing. Pressure removed, clothes returned to their proper places, and nary a word spoken of it again. All of her encounters had been like that, in fact, as she played the game and built her name, selecting very carefully whom she dallied with and when. She understood something of hesitation, but this was **different**. The desire hung thick in the air, a demand from the quiet depths of her soul that she lie down and offer herself. It wasn't a request. Her body was **ordering** her to mate with Malora Adaar. She'd never felt like that before. The Inquisitor had to recognize it. It was all but reflected in the warrior's eyes, a silent answer to what was currently stirring in her core. The time for hesitation had long since passed; indeed, it had passed before they had even met in this strange place between worlds._

"_Help me out of these," she whispered, guiding Adaar's hands back to her body, determined to overcome this silly obstacle. This was her fantasy, and she would see it through to the end. She would have Malora Adaar, in the only way she could, the only place she could. She smiled as the qunari nodded once and then applied herself to the task of undressing them both, quickly removing the leather equipment Josephine wore and her own simple cloth trousers before kneeling again._

_The former ambassador's breath caught at the sight of her intended lover so exposed. The scars didn't stop at her arms; indeed, her entire being was decorated with them. How many battles had the qunari seen in her short lifetime? How many times had she almost fallen? Josephine traced her fingers over a particularly large and brutal one, just along the mercenary's side. She turned her head slightly as she gazed at the darkened blemish, curious about what had caused it. Of course her subconscious could make something up. It clearly had filled in the blanks on Malora's naked form, anyway. But somehow this bit at least… seemed real. It seemed… genuine. Like it might really…_

"_I took a spear to the belly a few years ago," the warrior said softly. "I was overwhelmed and my comrades had all fled or fallen." Josephine looked up into Malora's face, her chest tightening at the sight of pain and regret in it. Her subconscious was certainly doing a good job of filling in those blanks. It was even telling her stories. That was dangerous. There was a thin line between reality and fantasy, and she'd already bled one into the other with enough careless disregard. If she wasn't cautious, she'd start to believe in her fantasy Malora and forget about the real one._

"… _and they tried to close it up but in the end I had to be brought to a circle tower to seek healing. I got lucky. Most don't survive a gut wound like that." Josephine shook the confusion out of her head. She'd lost the thread of the conversation, engrossed in her own thoughts. This little fantasy was getting away from her. She pushed Malora to her back and crawled over her, determined to get things back on track._

"_Yes, that sounds terrible," she said dismissively, bracing herself with a hand on either side of Malora's head, ignoring the flash of hurt and confusion reflected in the silvery steel eyes. This was ridiculous. Her subconscious was just going to have to figure it out and get it back under control. Frustration and tension were coiled within her, requesting some sort of release and she would have satisfaction no matter how many stories her weary mind wanted to make up about the qunari warrior. She leaned down and brushed her lips against Malora's again, pressing her body down insistently, silently asking to continue where they had left off. She bore down hard, letting all of her weight rest against the woman below her, but the qunari's arms did not encircle her. Malora's lips did not respond. In fact, it was as if Malora was no longer present… at all._

_Josephine pulled back again, looking down at the warrior. Something wasn't right. Something wasn't quite right about this dream. Malora looked… hurt. The expression on her face broke the former ambassador's heart in two, and her eyes went wide as the once solid image of the qunari fighter started to shimmer and fade. Even her mind was out to punish her, it would seem. Even her very psyche would take away the one thing that she wanted, that she **needed**, to remain sane. She grabbed at Malora's shoulders, desperate to hold onto the vision even as it slipped through her fingers. She let out a cry of anguish, even as the silence swallowed her screams. She beat her fists on Malora's chest, even as the figure dissipated into the darkness. And she fell to the ground, weeping and holding herself, even as the world around her turned away._

_This just wasn't Josephine Montilyet's night._

* * *

_Edit 5/22/15_

_Goodness, so many thoughtful comments regarding lore! And good reminders that I have to get back to this work. __In regards to remembering dreams -__ that's not entirely accurate. The Fade is a direct parallel to the concept of human dreams, and the lore only states that *most* don't remember their dreams. If it's powerful enough or significant enough, folks remember them. Mages are just able to consciously direct their efforts while in the fade and always remember it. The biggest stretch is probably Adaar's race, but the lore only explicitly excludes dwarves. __Besides that, I had a reason for writing that particular bit the way I did. Someday, when I don't have a billion other projects on, I'll get back to it and everyone will have a clearer understanding. _

_Thanks again everyone! This will get finished someday. _


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